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GEOFFREY CHAUCER.
From the early portrait-miniature on the Occleve manuscript.
IN THE DAYS OF
Cljaucer
By
TUDOR JENKS
WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY
HAMILTON WRIGHT MABLE
ILLUSTRATED
New York
A. S. BARNES & COMPANY
M D C C C CI V
TF( lief
SEP 22 1904
^ooyrteht Enm.
|CLAS% tt XXo. Na
OOPYB
-N^
Copyright, 1904, by
A. S. BARNES & COMPANY.
Published, September, 1904
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Page
Introduction vii
/. Where and When the Boy Lived —
Who the Chancers Were ... I
//. His Boyhood and Education^ as It "'
May Have Been — He Becomes a
Page in the English Court . . 1 6
///. Chaucer in the Royal Household —
Life of the Feudal Lords • • • 35
IV. Chaucer Becomes a Soldier, is Cap-
tured and Ra7isom:in-—LIe Marries 52
V. Chaucer s Earnings and LIis For-
eign Journeys 7I_
VI. Chaucer at Home in London — FIis
Business Life . . . . . . 87
VII. Chaucer and the Events of His Time
— The Church 103
VIII. Chivalry — The Poet^s Life as an
Official 121
IX. What Chaucer Read and What He
Knew 138
V
/^
Table of Contents
Page
X. His Writings, and What They Con-
tain 156
XL ''The Canterbury Tales" . . . .175
XIL " The Canterbury Tales ''—The Pil-
grims Themselves . . , .
. 194
XIIL After Chaucer's Death . . . .
. 214
XIV. About the Editing of Chaucer .
. 232
XV. The Testimony of the Poets ,
. 248
XVI. The Dwellers in Arcady . . ,
.267
Appendix
Chief Dates in Chaucer s Life
. 281
English Literature, 1066 — 1400 .
. 284
Brief Bibliography
. .285
Route of the Canterbury Pilgrims
. 288
Doubtful or Spurious Poems . .
. . 290
Index
« 293
vi
INTRODUCTION
By Hamilton Wright Mabie
One of the most interesting facts about
Chaucer is that when we think of him we
instantly see about him a group of men
and womenj hke Shakespeare, he stands
out-of-doors with all kinds of people in
his company. When we read Spenser, we
are in fairy-land, and when we read Bacon
we are in a library ; but when we read the
Canterbury Tales, we are on our way from
the Tabard Inn to the old cathedral town,
with a group of very entertaining pilgrims.
Chaucer must have been one of the most
interesting men of his time. It is true
that immensely entertaining books are
sometimes written by men who talk in the
vii
Introduction
most prosy way and have no gifts as
story-tellers ; but Chaucer was so much a
man of his time, knew so many kinds of
people, was so much alive to everything
that went on about him, had such a fund
of humor, and was so fall of gayety, that
it is impossible to think of him as other
than a delightful companion, to spend the
day with whom one would have walked a
long way.
Chaucer was a scholar in his way ; he
knew Latin, French, and Italian as well as
English books, and was fond of study
and reading ; but he liked best of all the
English men and women with whom he
lived ; he liked to hear them talk, to
know how they amused themselves, what
they thought about, and how they dressed.
He lived on the edge of the Court circle,
but he was at home with all kinds of
people, because, like Shakespeare, he liked
viu
Introduction
all kinds of people. It was a hard time
in which he lived in many ways : man-
ners were rude, talk was often very coarse,
there were practically none of the con-
veniences and there was very little of the
refinement of modern life ; but there was a
great deal of vigorous and manly character,
a great deal of honest and homely living ;
and the age was much more picturesquely
dressed than our more colorless time. Each
occupation, trade, profession, and rank in
society had its own dress, and there was,
therefore, great and often brilliant variety.
Life was a much more striking show than
it is to-day ; and if we could recall it we
could sit by the hour and watch the pro-
cession pass with unflagging interest.
Chaucer was as much interested in the
passing of the procession as a boy would
have been ; in fact, one reason why people
have cared so much for what he wrote is
ix
Introduction
that there was so much of the boy in him;
such curiosity about things and people,
such pleasure in looking at the show of
society, such joy in sitting in the sun or
by the tavern fire and hearing men de-
scribe the things they had seen and done.
He tried his hands at various subjects when
he began to write, but in the end he found
what he could do best because he cared
most for it, and he set himself to describe
the people of his time. He was not a
photographer, exactly reproducing every
detail ; nor was he a sketcher, putting on
paper a few outlines; he was a poet; a
man, that is, who sees not only with his
eyes but with his imagination and his
reason. He saw people precisely as they
looked ; any photographer could have
done that ; but he also understood them,
which no mere photographer could have
done ; and he described them so that we
Ijitroduction
see them, which was quite beyond the art
of the most thoughtful observer.
He became the poet of England in his
century, and " The Canterbury Tales" are
what the historians call an original source;
that is to say, they give first-hand, trust-
worthy information about the things with
which they deal. It is the company of
pilgrims going down to Canterbury which
comes into view when we open the pages
of Chaucer ; and these pilgrims stand for
all the people of England. Only two or
three of them are religious as we think of
religion ; the rest are very far from being
saints ; they are the plain, average, hearty,
honest, coarse people of their time. They
are going to a shrine and they expect to
have their sins forgiven ; but they have
started from a tavern where there are
plenty of cakes and ale, and the air of the
tavern goes with them.
xi
Introduction
If Chaucer had been a saint like those
sweet and tender singers George Herbert
and John Keble, he would not have liked
the company nor would he have stayed in
it ; if he had been an idealist like Spenser,
he would have escaped from tavern talk
and gossip into fairy-land ; fortunately for
us, he was a simple-hearted, broad-minded,
very human Englishman, with immense
relish for all kinds of life, and one of the
best portrait painters and most natural and
sweet-voiced singers that ever lived. He
was a good deal of a realist as well as a
dreamer of fair dreams, as all the poets
have been since time began ; he was inter-
ested in things as they were and in people
as he saw them, and he let his imagination
play about them and his poetry encircle
them as the skylarks rose out of the fields
of Kent as the pilgrims rode past on their
way to Canterbury.
xu
Introduction
Because he was so thoroughly a man of
his age, so marvellous a painter of its man-
ners and its men, Chaucer, more than
most poets, must be seen in the dress he
wore, in the time in which he lived, and
among his people. Some poets need the
aid of commentators to make their phrases
and allusions clear to us ; Chaucer needs
the aid of the sympathetic student of the
fourteenth century in England, who can
bring that vanished age once more about
the figure of its greatest poet.
This is what Mr. Jenks has done ; he
has made us see Chaucer's England, under-
stand its habits, overhear its speech, and
comprehend its spirit. The fresh interest
with which he has invested his subject and
the fulness of knowledge with which he has
made the merry, hearty, coarse England
of Chaucer's time live before our imagi-
nations shows how intelligently he has
xiu
Introduction
read and how deeply he loves the poet of
" The Canterbury Tales."
There are many aids to the study of
poets and of their works in these days,
andj in many cases, these aids are so in-
telligently prepared that they are, for their
purpose, worthy of all praise. For the
most part, however, these aids deal mainly,
often exclusively, with matters presented
by the text ; with the exact meanings of
the words, with references and allusions of
all kinds, so that everything appears in
clear light except the poet himself. Now
the poet is the chief factor in his work,
the determining factor. To know him is
to bring to his work the secret of its power,
of its charm, of its unique quality, what-
ever that may be. It must never be for-
gotten, moreover, that the end of all knowl-
edge of books is to freshen and deepen
the power to feel the movement of life in
xiv
Introduction
them, and to enjoy the beauty which that
stir of Hfe takes on; in other words, to
find delight in the art of the book. These
are precisely the ends served by such a
portraiture of a man and of his age as
Mr. Jenks has made in this study of
Chaucer. He has freshened our sense of
the humanity of the poet, and he has so
recovered the form and dress of a past
age, that he has freshened our delight in
his work. This series is to be extended
to include similar books dealing with
Shakespeare, Milton, Scott, and perhaps
other writers, and can hardly fail to sup-
plement in a very happy way the many
admirable aids to the study of these
writers.
XV
CHAPTER I
WHEN AND WHERE THE BOY LIVED WHO
THE CHAUCERS WERE
EOFFREY CHAUCER,
the earliest of the great
poets who have written In
English, and the only
writer of his time whose
works are still read by
others than students of language and lit-
erature, died In 1400, five centuries ago.
His life was during the childhood of
England, for we must not forget that
what we call the "old days" are truly the
young days, when modern England was In
Its beginning. The life of his time was
simpler than our own, and In every way
easier to be understood by those who lived
in it. Even though It is now a part of
I
In the Days of Chaucer
^'history" and studied by scholarly men, we
must not think the story of Chaucer's time
a matter of dull learning : there were great
and serious happenings, of course, but
there were also the little every-day inci-
dents, the round of work and play, the bits
of talk, the comedies and jests of home, of
school, that fill our hours to-day. We see
all these in the poems of Chaucer, for he
shows us the living England of the four-
teenth century, making it pass before our
eyes as it passed before his own — good and
evil, comic or tragic, the life of high and
low, rich and poor, good and bad.
In trying to make the England of Geof-
frey Chaucer live again before our minds,
we must first be sure to remember how
many things were nearly the same. We
are to bear it in mind that if we might be
carried back to the land and times in
which he lived, there would be no lack of
surroundings we should find familiar. Out
in the country, far from towns and farms,
2
Birth and Family
there would be little to remind us we had
gone back five hundred years from these
days of the twentieth century: fields and
woods, sea and sky, plants, insects, animals,
would be the same or so like all we know
that we could see in them no hint of their
earlier date.
Closer study would show differences : we
should find the sheep smaller, and the
oxen, too ; for long years of careful breed-
ing have made the farm animals larger.
But only when we met inhabitants, when
we took part in the life of town, village,
or city would we know we had entered
upon a different time. We might, on see-
ing a farm laborer, be struck by the oddity
of his dress or by the unusual form of the
tools he carried; but until we heard him
speak, the man would not seem to us so
very different from men of his kind as we
see them about us to-day.
An attempt to talk with him, however,
would bring out proof that "time works
3
In the Days of Chaucer
wonders." We could not understand the
common English of that day until custom
had taught us to catch the familiar words
in the pronunciation of the time, and to
know the grammar of the language when
it was less simple.
Beginning thus, by finding the language
not quite our own, but more like a for-
eigner's English, a dialect, we should, as
we walked beside the farmer or shepherd
to his home, come upon much that would
be quite as strange as himself. On our
way, w^e should no doubt take sly glances
at his clothing, glances he would not no-
tice, since he would be looking with as
much curiosity at what we wore. He
would be wearing "hose/' trousers and
stockings combined; a loosely fitting doub-
let, or jacket, and a hood or cap of cloth
— altogether a convenient and appropriate
dress, and with the addition of a warm
cloak, an excellent one for cold weather.
This was the simplest form of the cos-
4
Birth and Family
tume of the time, but the rich added every
sort of adornment they could devise, as
Chaucer's poems will show you, for he de-
scribes the dress of his characters as if he
were poet, artist, and tailor in one.
When we come near a town, we shall
find little smoke in the air — there are no
factories, no regular chimneys to the
houses, and wood is almost the only fuel,
though "sea-coal," as they called it, was in
use by brewers and clothiers. Water or
wind turns the mills that grind the grain,
and most other work is done by hand.
In the towns, we see few shops, and not
many tradesmen at work, the blacksmith,
the tailor, the joiner, the cobbler — all these
must have been kept busy; but the list of
crafts is not a long one, and their business
was carried on among their neighbors.
Streets are narrow, because there is little
traffic, and, being near together, the houses
are convenient for friendly gossip.
The shopkeeper can talk with his neigh-
5
In the Days of Chaucer
bor over the way, or at either side ; in sum-
mer, housewives find their doorsteps at-
tractive, and hfe goes on in the open air.
Neighbors are friends or enemies, as it
may happen, and, either way, keep the day
from being dull.
Supposing that we have made friends
with our imaginary guide Into the past, we
settle down i : the village with him, and
soon find how little of the outer world
comes to these village folk. But what Is
brought to them has a weight and interest,
a living quality not found in printed news.
They learn of the outside world from the
lips of travellers, from pilgrims, glad to
tell the story that wins them a seat by the
log-fire, and a place at the table ; from the
archer who shot many an arrow In the bat-
tle he describes; from a friar who can re-
peat the learned words of the abbots and
monks In the abbeys and monasteries;
from the carters who have been with har-
vest wagons to fairs In busy market towns,
6
Birth and Family
and brought back the gossip of the day.
Most exciting of all it is to listen to the
mysteries told by credulous and supersti-
tious sailors who have sailed unknown seas.
We find the people divided sharply into
classes, and jealous of their rights and cus-
toms — the nobles, the clergy, merchants,
farmers, laborers — their sons usually ex-
pecting to follow In the father's footsteps,
and not only willing but proud to be known
by their dress as of this or that vocation.
We find the people all Christians, in
name If no more; going to the church
services more or less as a matter of course,
and yet anything but strait-laced. And
we are amazed at the multitude of the folk
who depend on the church for a livelihood
— men and women, good, bad, or indiffer-
ent, and popular or unpopular, loved or
hated, according to their lives and works.
For the most part, the people are not
oppressed by want, and this partly because
their needs are few. The houses are but
7
In the Days of Chaucer
rude huts with scant furnishing ; their food
comes from their own fields and meadows ;
their clothing is simple in fashion and
sound in texture, lasting many years.
Work is not hard to find, since nearly all
labor is such as can be done by the un-
skilled, and because, after the middle of the
century, the plague made workers scarce.
Amusements are many and within the
reach of. all, since they find their sport in
such games or exercises as now amuse our
young folk, or In pageants and processions,
of which there Is no lack; and during
earlier years of the time we are consider-
ing there were no threatening signs of the
great civil wars that were In the Wars of
the Roses to make all England a battle-
field for the warfare of her nobles.
Altogether, Chaucer's land was a nation
In Its first youth. There was enough of
variety to make Its people Interesting to
one another — variety in life, in dress. In
occupation — and yet the old strife of races
8
Birth and Family
was at an end, Norman and Saxon were
united In a common patriotism, and under
a single standard the English had shown
their valor on many a noted field, against
the French, the Scots, or the Welsh.
England was a nation, a young, healthy,
child-like nation, with a child's faults and
a child's virtues.
But we do not mean to deal with the
larger facts of the times; those are for
general histories and for the students. We
shall try rather to make you glad to read
of Chaucer, the man and the poet, as you
might have known him If you had been
his friend or neighbor, so that you may
come to the reading of his works with the
feeling that he was a man of flesh and
blood, who loved his books, his country-
men, and his native land. It Is the only
way to read him aright, for no poet was
ever less fitted to be made only a text-book
from which to study lessons. Study him
we must, if we are to understand the be-
9
In the Days of Chaucer
ginnings of English verse; but the best
study of a poet is when we learn to read
his work with pleasure. Until we know
him and something of the Hfe he led, we
cannot feel his charm.
In the first place, we must not imagine
that anyone of the time took the trouble
to put down for later ages even the briefest
account of Chaucer's life. The old writers
of chronicles were careful to tell us of bat-
tles, of floods, of kings and warriors, but
they could not understand that after five
centuries we care much more about the
poet than about the king or the great
barons, and the battles they fought. We
do not know certainly even the date of
Chaucer's birth. For many years it was
believed upon tradition that the date 1328
was once marked on his tombstone in
Westminster Abbey. But later scholars
think this a mistake, and have decided that
the poet must have been born about 1340.
A good reason for accepting the later
10
Birth and Family
date Is this: In the year 1386 there was a
trial held in the city of Westminster, and
the record shows that Geoffrey Chaucer
was one of the witnesses. In the proceed-
ings It is stated that Chaucer is a man of
forty years and upward, and has borne
arms for twenty-seven years. If this was
meant to be taken as at all an exact state-
ment, the very smallest boy in school has
only to subtract a little more than forty
from 1386, and the remainder will give
the date of Chaucer's birth as about 1340.
But the testimony may not have been
meant to be more than a proof that the
witness was past middle age, just as men
nowadays when about to vote will say,
"over twenty-one," even if they are forty
or more. Indeed, It is known that In the
same trial other witnesses made widely
wrong statements as to their ages, and
also as to the period during which they
"bore arms" — statements making them
bear arms In infancy. May It not be that
II
In the Days of Chaucer
the old French word "armeez" means
"bore a coat-of-arms" ? This was the age
of heraldry, and even an infant might have
a coat-of-arms. "Armeez" has that mean-
ing in the testimony given by Chaucer in
this very trial.
If we had no other evidence, we might
still be doubtful; but we find that to put
his birth at about this time fits in fairly
well with the facts of his life, and seems
probable in so many ways that it may be
accepted until we know more exactly.
Thus, if we take the statement that he had
borne arms for twenty-seven years in
1386, and reckon back, we shall see that
he began military life in 1359, and was
then nineteen or a year or two less when
he first bore arms — which seems reason-
able, especially when we find that it was in
1359 we first hear of Chaucer as a soldier,
for we know he was with the army of
Edward III during an expedition to
France made in that year.
12
Birth and Family
Besides, there are legal records showing
that John Chaucer, the poet's father, was
under fourteen In 1324, and unmarried
during some part of 1328; so It does not
therefore seem likely his son was born In
1328.
Let us then believe, until we know more
exactly, that It was some time not long
after 1340 that we must think of the ar-
rival of Geoffrey, son of John Chaucer, the
vintner of the little city London on the
Thames. John Chaucer, the wine-mer-
chant and tavern-keeper, lived not far from
the river, and one boundary of his garden
was a small brook, called "Wall Brook,"
the place of which Is still to be found on
the map of London, since the street "Wal-
brook," not far from the Cannon Street
Station, retains the name of the little
water-course that bounded the Chaucer
garden.
It was an excellent place for a tavern.
London Bridge, then a long stone bridge,
13
In the Days of Chaucer
with a gate-house guarding each end and
a chapel in the middle, was, even in the
fourteenth century, a busy thoroughfare
over which horsemen and footmen were
coming and going all day. John Chau-
cer's tavern was sure of plenty of custom,
for in those times whoever was thirsty
must drink either ale or small beer — water
was not thought at all wholesome. Prob-
ably the idea had good foundation, so far
as the city water was concerned, for all
sources of supply were likely to be pol-
luted by the waste of the town.
We may be sure that the wayfarers over
the bridge often turned aside to visit the
tavern kept by the Chancers near Dow-
gate Hill. From his earliest boyhood the
poet is likely to have seen all sorts and
conditions of men as they visited the tav-
ern. Probably it was a well-known hos-
telry, since Geoffrey's grandfather also
had been a vintner, and may have kept a
tavern in the same house or the same neigh-
14
Birth and Family
borhood. Back of the grandfather, Rob-
ert, we know nothing of the family,
though from the name (which seems to be
a form of the French word ^^ chancier, ^^
meaning "shoemaker" or "stocking-weav-
er") we may guess that some ancestor was
of that trade. The name was not an un-
common one in those times, which makes
it not easy to tell which of the many that
bore it were related to the poet's family.
15
CHAPTER II
HIS BOYHOOD AND EDUCATION AS IT MAY
HAVE BEEN HE BECOMES A PAGE IN
THE ENGLISH COURT
There is nothing recorded of Geof-
frey's boyhood, and we must imagine it
for ourselves by fitting together what we
can find out about the lives of boys of that
day, remembering that he was the son of a
well-to-do citizen of London, then a city
of less than 50,000 inhabitants.
Certain things we can take for granted
because of his later life. Thus there is no
doubt that Chaucer was well educated, for
we find him in manhood showing knowl-
edge of all the learning of his time —
Latin, French, the sciences, and literature,
and this in spite of his passing a busy life
in court and in the city. Where he went
16
Education and Youth
to school we do not know. It may be that
he was taught at home by a tutor, some
churchman, or In some of the church
schools. We know about what he must
have studied — languages, grammar and
rhetoric, music, arithmetic, geometry, and
astronomy, for these were the branches
then taught. While we might find much
to criticize in the old method of teaching,
it is well to remember that from it came
the training that made the author of the
"Canterbury Tales," and to turn out so
finished a product is all that can be ex-
pected of any system, no matter how sci-
entific. For him, at least, the system must
have been fairly good, since it made him a
student all his life, and a lover of learning.
The school-days of an English boy in
the Middle Ages were never very pleasant.
There was far too much reliance on the
rod as a means of education. In his book
"Chaucer's England," Matthew Browne
says; "It Is quite bad enough to think of
17
In the Days of Chaucer
their discomfort at a public school in those
days. Tumbling out of bed before day-
light on frosty mornings ; no fire, or, when
fire came, a smoky room; long lessons be-
fore breakfast; lumps of meat flung to the
boys as If they were dogs; long, dreary
prayers ; no women about the place to give
an air of light and tenderness, but only
frowsy, dirty monks and other men ; then,
the dark hole [a prison or cell, used as
punishment] and plenty of the rod — It
must have been delightful."
We can imagine that all he says Is true,
and yet believe It Is not a complete, and so
not a fair picture. While it applies to the
cold and dreary days of winter, there could
not be a school without some brightness.
Even in the Middle Ages, really good
teachers existed to make the best of bad
conditions, to give life to the lessons they
taught, and to enliven the duller hours of
school by their good humor. There were
also the usual school-boy tricks, and the llt-
i8
Education and Youth
tie jokes of the class-room, for these things
must be wherever young people meet to-
gether. In spring and autumn, too, even
dingy old halls become bright, and in ex-
pecting the pleasures of the playground the
hours of study soon pass. It is easy to give
a wrong impression of anything by telling
only one side of its story.
Once school was out, what a number of
games there were for the boys of Chau-
cer's London ! They seem to have had all
we play to-day, besides a great number
that have been long forgotten. It would
take too much space to give even a hasty
list of them. We can mention only a few
of the more usual ones. Thus, for in-doors
and rainy weather, there were cards, chess
— which was very generally played, and
even taught as a part of fashionable edu-
cation — dice, ''tables," or backgammon,
besides the old tricks we know as amuse-
ments of All-hallo3ye'en, such as "bob-
cherry" and the like. Out of doors they
19
In the Days of Chaucer
engaged in leaping, wrestling, casting the
stone, and especially archery, the last be-
ing thought so important that citizens were
required to practise with the bow on all
feast days.
Boys had already many sorts of ball-
games, the early forms of cricket, hand-
ball, foot-ball, frap-ball, golf, and hockey.
Besides these games there were, of course,
the regular out-door sports, such as swim-
ming, riding, sailing, and in winter there
was skating on the Moorfield, north of
the city, and at times on the Thames itself,
though instead of our dainty and con-
venient "club skates," that are clamped to
the feet in an instant, young Chaucer, if he
wished to skate, had to content himself
with the thigh-bones of an animal, clumsily
tied to his feet — just how, we do not
know. It would be interesting to see one
of these old skates, of which some speci-
mens have been dug up, and to find out
whether there was any edge to them, or
20
Education and Youth
whether the skater merely shuffled along
over the Ice, really sliding. The chances
are that there was some sort of edge, since
an old writer speaks of skaters "going like
the wind," which they could hardly have
done on the round surface of a bone.
Besides the sports somewhat familiar to
us, there were some that Imitated old
forms of warfare, and so have naturally
been given up. Tilting was practised with
a stick Instead of a lance, and against the
"quintain," instead of against a knight.
There were many sorts of quintains, but
the idea of all was to set up a mark so that
If the tilter failed to strike it fairly he
would receive a buffet from a stuffed bag,
or perhaps be drenched by the upsetting of
a tub of water, or would in some other way
pay a penalty for his awkwardness.
We may know that these games were
really played at the time, for It was nec-
essary to pass a law forbidding boys to
play at "Prisoners' Base" at Westminster
21
In the Days of Chaucer
during the sessions of parliament ! There
is something delightful in the idea of the
grave counsellors of Edward III being
annoyed by the shouts of the small boys
chasing one another about Westminster
Hall without the slightest regard for the
dignity of the legislators who were mak-
ing history within.
Besides all these every-day sports there
were spectacles to be seen everywhere —
pageants, processions of trade-guilds,
shows, jugglers, acrobats, strolling mu-
sicians, men with trained animals, all the
catchpenny contrivances that would serve
to tempt a few coins out of the purses that
hung heavy from the girdles of the pros-
perous citizens of England's capital. And
each holiday had its form of merry-
makings
In order to understand why this was the
case, we must remember that in those
times there was more leisure to give to such
forms of amusement. In the first place,
22
Education and Youth
there were fewer books to read. The few
manuscripts there were In all England were
kept mainly in the universities or abbeys.
Making copies of them was a long, slow,
and costly matter, and there was no pub-
lic to pay for them. Not all, even among
the nobles, could read, as you know; and
it was much pleasanter to listen to old
ballads sung by minstrels than to spell out
dry "Lives of the Saints." Then, too,
people had to take their recreation in the
daylight, for at night the streets were un-
lighted (there were no street-lamps in
London till 141 6), and in-doors the can-
dles or torches were too costly to be much
used except in the homes of the great
nobles, wealthy churchmen, or merchant
princes. Consequently most people kept
early hours, and had time for some rest
during the long day they secured by early
rising.
Not only did they have more time,
but more inclination for such amusements.
23
In the Days of Chaucer
Reading so much less, they thought the
more of the real life that went on before
their eyes. Where a modern family would
stay in-doors with their eyes fixed upon
newspapers or books, the same family in
the reign of Edward III. would dress
themselves in their best and be out in the
streets or fields to see and to be seen.
On holidays, the folks of London town
took part as actors or spectators in the cus-
tomary performances of the season. And
they kept many more holidays and holy
days than have survived to our time.
Christmas was rather a season than a day
of rejoicing, and its celebration lasted un-
til Twelfth Day, at least, and often till
Candlemas, that is, the second of Febru-
ary. The beginning and the end of the
year each had its observances. And to
these we must add Candlemas itself,
Shrovetide, St. Valentine's Day, Palm
Sunday, Easter, May Day, Midsummer
Eve, Michaelmas, and a number of saints*
24
Education and Youth
days, to say nothing of every Saturday
afternoon and Sunday, for there was no
Idea until long after Chaucer's lifetime that
there was any harm In games or amuse-
ments on Sunday, which, except for church-
going, was kept as a feast-day.
Without bearing In mind the difference
between his life and ours In these respects,
It Is Impossible for us to put ourselves In
Chaucer's place and to understand his
poems and his career. We must get Into
our minds a picture of his home.
The tavern of his father stood, as has
been said, on the rapid little brook that
flowed Into the Thames at Dowgate. It
was no doubt a plaster or a wooden build-
ing, roofed with tiles, having a court In
the centre, around which was the tavern,
with galleries. On the ground floor were
the public rooms, furnished with a few
rude tables and benches or stools, while up-
stairs, reached from the court in the cen-
tre, were the rooms for the lodgers and
25
In the Days of Chaucer
the family. Being in so public a thorough-
fare, it was probably a busy place, with the
coming and going of the guests, the run-
ning to and fro of the maids and the
grooms, the passing of serving-men, and
the babel of loud talk, in French and
the dialects of English.
What better place could there have been
for the boy Geoffrey to study the people of
his period? To the tavern came the
knights and their esquires, the merchants
and the prentices, the buyers and sellers of
cloth and wool, the courtiers and the
monks, the minstrels and jugglers ; and all
passed before the keen eyes of the boy who
was to paint them so vividly for us of five
hundred years later.
John Chaucer, the keeper of the tav-
ern, must have been a man of substance
and of good repute, for we are told that
he had been with King Edward in 1338
upon a visit to Cologne and Antwerp,
when the English were forming an alli-
26
Education and Youth
ance with the Germans against the French.
King Edward was bent upon making an
Impression of wealth and power, and he
would not be likely to take with him one
who was no more than a mere keeper of
a tavern. John Chaucer may have had
charge of the king's supplies; but as
Geoffrey's mother was also a member of
the party, It would seem that the Chaucers
were not merely on a business trip. This
journey was made but a few years before
the birth of the poet, and Is important to
us only as showing the respectable rank of
his parents.
We may note that in all probability
the name of Chaucer's mother was Agnes,
and that she was the heir and "consan-
gulnea" or relative — perhaps a niece — of
Hamo de Compton, a "moneyer," which
was, if we may judge by a line In Chau-
cer's translation of the "Romance of the
Rose," either a banker or a money-changer.
So she may have been heiress to a man
27
In the Days of Chaucer
who was well-to-do, and may have brought
her husband a rich dowry.
But even in London, the richest city of
England, we should not expect to find at
that period any impressive buildings ex-
cept the great churches and castles. The
houses were in many cases very mean af-
fairs of timber and mortar, for brick and
stone were as yet rarely used for private
houses. Most of them were of but one
story, and only the better class of citizens
had added the upper rooms, then known as
"solars," a name that is thought to be de-
rived from the Latin "50/^nwm," and to
have been first given to the flat roof of a
house upon which one could sit in the sun,
and then to have come to mean any upper
story. Access to the solar was usually by
an outside stairway.
The shops of this very prosperous city
were not at all magnificent, being merely
little booths built out in front of the houses,
so as to make an open counter, where the
28
Education and Youth
merchant could display his goods In sight
of the passers-by. The counter being pro-
tected from the weather only by its roof, it
must have been necessary to remove all
goods into the house whenever there came
more than a gentle shower; and at night
all the goods had to be taken in from these
booths, and stored away till morning.
The unpaved roads in front of the
houses were of course often muddy, and
there was little attempt to keep them clear.
If you will look at any ordinary country
road with its ditches along the sides to
carry off the water that runs down from
the high part In the middle, you will have
a perfect Idea of the London street of
Chaucer's boyhood; though some of the
more travelled streets were beginning to
be paved during his later lifetime. To
keep their feet out of the mud the people
sometimes wore high clogs of wood, but
it Is probable that In the very wet days
most kept In-doors, for the umbrella was
29
In the Days of Chaucer
to be unknown for some centuries. How
It did rain at times! There was one year
before Chaucer was ten years old when
the old chroniclers assure us that it rained
almost continuously from midsummer till
Christmas.' This was in 1349; but at
about that time in the world's history there
were recorded many unaccountable freaks
of nature.
This was the period of the "Black
Death," that terrible scourge during which
millions of people died of a mysterious and
incurable malady. There is no reason why
we should recount its horrors, and it will
be enough to say that in the city of Lon-
don alone it is believed to have caused the
death of half the inhabitants during the
fourteen months of its continuance. That
there is hardly a reference to this enormous
calamity in the writings of Chaucer, seems
to indicate that he is more likely to have
been eight years old or less at the time
than twenty, as he would have been if
30
Education and Youth
born, according to. the older authorities, in
1328. To a little child the great plague
would soon become only a vague memory,
but a young man of twenty would have
been deeply impressed by the terrible
scenes he then witnessed.
There is another possible explanation of
the absence In Chaucer's works of any
trace of the darkest side of the life of the
English people. Chaucer was not a poet
of the people. He soon became attached
to the English court, as we shall see, and
passed his young manhood with those
whose lives were far from any share in
the troubles of the poor and humble. They
looked to their poet for literature that
would give pleasure to their leisure hours.
Naturally, he chose such subjects and such
methods of treatment as were most accept-
able to his fashionable patrons, and left to
others the recording of the sufferings of
the poor, the injustice of the powerful, and
the shortcomings of the clergy.
31
In the Days of Chaucer
Green, in his "History of the English
People," draws a striking contrast between
the courtly author of the "Canterbury
Tales" and the "gaunt poet of the poor,"
William Langland, who wrote the "Vision
of Piers Plowman." Each poet had his
work to do in the world ; and if the readers
of to-day still delight to read the poems of
Chaucer, and are content to leave the bit-
ter lines of Langland more especially to
students of literature, it is partly because
those lines have done their work, and the
grosser abuses that gave them their keen
interest have long passed away.
There has been much eager discussion
upon the question whether young Chau-
cer ever studied at Oxford or Cambridge.
Unhappily, the only possible conclusion we
can reach is that there is no proof either
way. It is hard for us to see where he
acquired his learning unless he was for
some time at one of the universities; for
learning he had in a large measure, and
32
Education and Youth
his reading was extensive for one of his
period.
As there Is no mention of Chaucer
anywhere until we find him at the age of
seventeen In attendance as a page upon
Elizabeth, wife of Lionel, Duke of Clar-
ence, one of the sons of King Edward, we
may believe that he had until that time
been a student, and may have been at a
university. Certainly he must have had
access to some of the few libraries then In
England; and those of Oxford and Cam-
bridge seem to be the ones he would find
most accessible. It Is easier to suppose him
a student at one of these Institutions than
to Invent some less likely way for him to
acquire the learning they would have given.
But we must not forget this Is but guess-
work, and that it Is quite possible he began
his service at the English court without
more education than could be carried from
the ordinary schools.
There took place In April, 1357, an im-
33
In the Days of Chaucer
pressive scene, In which one Is glad to think
Chaucer had a part. Then It was that the
Black Prince came home In triumph from
the victory of Poitiers, bringing the cap-
tive French king. The Prince and his
royal prisoner came In grand procession
through the London streets, and rode to
Westminster Hall, where they were re-
ceived by Edward and the court.
As the first entry upon the court records
relating to Geoffrey Chaucer tells of his
receiving clothes In April, 1357, It may be
that this reception of the Black Prince was
the reason for putting the spruce young
page into his new attire. We are told that
he then received a paltock, or short cloak,
red and black breeches, and new shoes.
Other clothes were bought for him In the
following month; and In December, "for
necessaries at Christmas," he received two
shillings and sixpence; money then being
worth fifteen times as much as now.
34
CHAPTER III
CHAUCER IN THE ROYAL HOUSEHOLD
LIFE OF THE FEUDAL LORDS
At about seventeen years of age, Chau-
cer, probably through his father's friends
at the court, was appointed a page In the
service of the Princess Elizabeth, wife of
Lionel, who became, In 1362, Duke of
Clarence. Lionel was known as "Lionel
of Antwerp," because he had been born In
that city In 1338; so he was at this time
about two years older than Chaucer, or
nineteen, while his wife was twenty-five.
He had been married about five years.
His wife Elizabeth, born In Ireland,
was daughter of the Lord of Connaught
and third Earl of Ulster, William de
Burgh — a Norman, as his name shows,
and a descendant of the jailer of Prince
35
In the Days of Chaucer
Arthur, mentioned in Shakespeare's "King
John." She was called "Elizabeth of
Ulster." Chaucer became a member of
the household of the young couple, that is,
he was one of the numerous attendants or
servants who were in charge of their
housekeeping.
It was no fanciful appointment, but one
of real service. The pages of a noble lord
or lady were expected to make themselves
useful, and they did many things that to-
day are done by hired servants. Each
part of the daily work was in charge of
special officers, and under these were the
valets, pages, servants, clerks, who were
responsible for seeing that their masters
and mistresses were made comfortable.
The great households of early days were
very completely organized; in fact, they
were almost independent of outside aid.
Thus there was a body of priests or
chaplains to look after religious matters in
the chapel, or private church; there was 2
36
In the Royal Household
surgeon and assistants; there were stew-
ards, cooks, "pantlers," who looked after
the food; there was a large force to at-
tend to the stables; and, in short, each
department was in charge of attendants,
who gained their living by their services.
Something similar may be seen to-day in
a great battleship — except that the markets
now provide many things in such form as
to be preserved, while in the Middle Ages
supplies came in the rough, and had to be
made ready for use from the very begin-
ning.
Even the household furniture was made
to order, and the very drinking-horns and
table-ware had to be specially prepared
when old ones wore out.
The wardrobe supplies were at this
time very elaborate, since it was the fash-
ion to wear rich stuffs, heavily embroid-
ered in fanciful patterns; and since the
stone castles were cold except In the rooms
where enormous fireplaces could be piled
37
In the Days of Chaucer
high with logs, there was much fur used
in the costumes, both as trimming and as
lining, the costlier sorts being reserved for
the nobles.
All these things had to be looked after,
and you may be sure that the pages had
little idle time on their hands. The dress-
makers were all men, and the bills of the
time show heavy charges for their work in
the making, cutting, lining, padding, and
ornamenting of the court dresses.
At the table, the pages were in attend-
ance to cut up the meat, to hand dishes,
to offer the ewer and napkin when hands
were to be washed — a very necessary mat-
ter in those days, when forks were hardly
in existence, though we are told that Gav-
eston, the favorite of Edward 11., had one
for eating fruit. Dinner was early, at
about eleven o'clock, or earlier, and it was
the custom for two to eat from each
''trencher," a flat piece of bread or wood.
Meat was cut into strips, so that it could be
38
In the Royal Household
picked up and dipped Into gravy and sauce;
and old books show that for each of the
various meats served certain special sauces
or spices are to be served also.
It may be that Chaucer, who shows In
one of his poems that he knew something
of the preparation of various drinks for the
table, made himself especially useful In
this way, for there was a large variety of
drinks, such as mead, made from honey,
bragot, and hippocras, one of these two
being ale, and the other a spiced wine.
Another duty of the pages was to serve
as messengers either within or outside the
castles, to fetch and carry, to do all ordi-
nary errands, and generally to wait upon
the lords and ladles, whether these were at
home, upon journeys, or In the hunting-
field.
Society at this time was regulated by a
number of customs and rules, that were to
be learned only by a long apprenticeship,
and to acquaint himself with them was
39
In the Days of Chaucer
part of the page's duty. There were a
store of poHte phrases which the page
heard from the hps of knights and ladies,
methods of address adopted to all ranks,
certain courteous usages every member of
polite society was expected to know.
Not to be acquainted with them was to
show oneself to be "of low degree"; and
in reading Chaucer's poems it will be seen
that he keeps a sharp line of distinction
between the two great classes, and in the
"Canterbury Tales" puts into the mouths
of the "churls," or pilgrims of low degree,
stories of a very different character from
those told by the "gentle" or high-bred pil-
grims. Even in our ov/n times we have a
similar code, though based on other prin-
ciples; and none know better than the
young how much patient teaching is re-
quired before the child learns "good man-
ners," and is considered "well-bred."
In our army and navy we hear occa-
sionally that an officer is charged with con-
40
In the Royal Household
duct "unworthy of an officer and a gentle-
man." In the Middle Ages the code of
chivalry or knighthood was in the same
way a standard of conduct; and the page
was the beginner in the training that fitted
one to become a knight or the companion
of knights and ladles.
Supposing, for Instance, that it Is din-
ner-time; someone from the lower part of
the castle or palace would be sent to let
those of the upper household know that
dinner was ready, or there might be a sig-
nal given by the ringing of a bell or the
blowing of a horn. Then the page would
attend his master or mistress to the table,
and see that all was made ready — a cush-
ion on the bench, a clean trencher or plat-
ter, clean salt in the Salter or salt-box, and
a drinking-horn or goblet. .
When the lord was seated, the page
would go to the door of the hall and re-
ceive from the kitchen serving-men the
dishes for the table, and carry them to the
41
In the Days of Chaucer
table. He offers them to those guests who
are his especial charge, and they help them-
selves with their own spoons and knives.
The page also pours out the drinks, carves
the meats, and sees that the diner is kept
supplied with whatever he requires, just
as an attentive waiter in a modern restau-
rant would do.
Before and after meals it is the page's
duty to carry about bowls, ewers, and
napkins, so that the guests may cleanse
their fingers. And it is to be hoped that
once the people of higher degree were
served, the pages were at liberty to help
themselves.
We may see how a young fellow might
rise in the world from that part of "The
Knight's Tale" where Arcite, coming to
the castle of Theseus, begins by serving
as a laborer, "to drugge and draw," or
drudge and carry, and then is made helper
to the chamberlain, doing household work
in-doors; and next becomes "page of the
42
In the Royal Household
chamber," from which, because of his
"gentle condition," or good manners, he is
promoted to be "squire of the chamber,"
or personal servant of Lord Theseus him-
self. .All this, though related of an an-
cient Greek, is of course according to the
manners and usages of a feudal castle of
Chaucer's day.
So well did the disguised Arcite perform
his duties as squire that Chaucer says:
And three years in this wise his life he led.
And bore him so in peace and eke in war.
There was no man that Theseus held dearer.
(The language of ,the quotation is here
slightly modernized.) This seems to show
that even a laborer might, by gentle bear-
ing and good conduct, rise to the dignity
of a squire, from which knighthood was
but a step, to be won by a worthy deed, or
by the king's favor.
The nature of the life led in the great
feudal castles, whether the palace of the
43
In the Days of Chaucer
king or the stronghold of a great noble,
was much the same. The large assembly
room or hall was usually on the ground
floor. Here meals were served, and here
the household gathered on all great occa-
sions. At one end was a gallery for the
musicians or minstrels, who played during
banquets or for dancing and merry-making.
The table in the centre of the room, or
along the walls. Was made by laying planks
on trestles, and the guests sat about on
long benches. If there was a large com-
pany, the tables were placed around the
room near the walls, the guests sat with
their backs to the walls, and the attendants
passed to and fro in the middle. After
meals, the tables were cleared away.
In the older castles there was often a
great fire in the centre of the hall, upon a
broad, flat, stone hearth, and the smoke
drifted upward among the rafters, and es-
caped through a hole in the roof left for
the purpose, called "louvre." There were
44
In the Royal Household
chimneys In many of the Important castles,
but they were by no means universal for
some years later.
The meals taken In daytime were lighted
by great double windows, set deep In the
walls, with window-seats below; at night,
candles and torches set about the hall, and
the light of the fire, made the great hall
bright.
The floors throughout the castle were
strewed with rushes, and there were In the
dinlng-hall plenty of pet dogs to pick up
the scraps the diners threw upon the floor.
The knights' other pets, the hawks, were
provided with perches along the walls, long
pegs that also served now and again for
clothes-pegs.
Here are some lines In which Chaucer
sketches a feast In a great hall:
*« The minstrelsy, the service at the feast.
The great gifts to the most and least.
The rich array of Theseus' palace.
Or who sat first or last upon the dais,
45
In the Days of Chaucer
What ladies fairest been, or best dancing,
Or which of them can dancen best and sing.
Or who most feehngly speaketh of love:
What hawkes sitten on the perch above.
What houndes liggen on the floor adown;
Of all this make I now no mentioun. ' *
Knight's Tale.
The private rooms of the great castle
were often well furnished and comfortable.
The walls were concealed by long hang-
ings of tapestry, painted or embroidered
with scenes suitable to the room and its
occupant. Chaucer often describes these
pictured curtains. Large halls were di-
vided into smaller apartments by similar
hangings; and thus cosy chambers were
formed in the great stone rooms that seem
so bleak when they are seen without orna-
ment or furniture. Fur rugs or mats kept
the feet from the cold floors, and a me-
diaeval lady was often quite as luxuriously
lodged as one could wish.
The ladies of the nobility busied them-
46
In the Royal Household
selves much as their descendants do, so
far as in-door occupations go, excepting
that there was less reading, as has been
said. They were fond of embroidery, of
gossiping over all forms of out-door sport,
especially hawking, which must have given
an endless number of topics concerning the
noble birds — their breeding, their care,
their training. There was also in Edward's
reign a renewed interest in the fashions,
since both men and women labored to
outdo one another in making themselves
conspicuous for the oddity of their attire
and their extravagance In display. The
long, pointed shoes, which at last were to
be fastened to the knees by gold chains;
the hanging sleeves, scolloped, nicked, or
clipped into fancy edges; the gold, silver,
and silk embroideries must have been dis-
cussed In the castles until the flickering
torches went out.
Chivalry also furnished plenty of sub-
jects for their talk, for it had a strange
47
In the Days of Chaucer
poetical code of gallantry, of high-flown
love-making, that undertook to regulate
and legalize all the wild absurdities we
read of with so' much wonder — such, for
example, as is made use of in Dr. Doyle's
story, "The White Company," where a
knight goes to the wars with a patch over
one eye, having vowed to wear it until the
doing of some feat of arms. Another such
vow is told of in Scott's "Castle Danger-
ous."
It was also a common amusement to
listen to reading aloud; and in this way,
most likely, did the young page Chaucer
come to write poems. The step from read-
ing aloud the ballads and rhymes of others
to translating new ones into verse is not a
difficult one; and from translating to com-
posing new poems is even easier, if one
has the capacity for both.
Education was not lacking In the royal
household, for Edward had been taught
by Richard of Bury, still renowned as a
48
In the Royal Household
lover of books, and author of a volume in
their praise; while some of Edward's chil-
dren were instructed by a learned couple —
Elizabeth and William de St. Omer — of
whom there is still a memorial, their illu-
minated psalter. The Black Prince was
educated by Walter Burley. Altogether,
Chaucer was surrounded by an audience
capable of appreciating good literature,
and this had much to do with his career as
a poet.
What were the books Chaucer, as a
young man in the household of the
Princess Elizabeth, may have read aloud
to the inmates of the palace? He may
have been able to amuse his hearers with
the marvellous "Travels of Sir John Man-
deville," for that strange production — now
believed to be a mingling together of
many extracts and episodes taken from
earlier travellers — first appeared written
in French about the time Chaucer entered
the royal household. There were chron-
49
In the Days of Chaucer
icles of past events which, in portions at
least, would have been heard with pleas-
ure — such as those written by Robert of
Brunne or Richard Rolle; there were the
old Norman poems, the "Song of Ro-
land" ; the "History of the War of Troy" ;
the "Brut d'Angleterre," by Robert Wace,
and the same writer's "Roman de Rou";
there were the legends of Arthur and the
Knights of the Round Table, and these
we know to have been popular, because
Edward had made for himself an enor-
mous round table, to be used in the palace
at Windsor; and there was the "Romance
of the Rose," translating which is thought
to be the first serious and sustained work
of Chaucer's pen. The poems of Boc-
caccio, the Italian poet, were also well
known to Chaucer, for in his earlier verse
he translated from the celebrated Italian,
and all through his life he shows acquaint-
ance with Boccaccio, and uses freely ma-
terial drawn from his writings.
In return for his services to the Princess,
59
In the Royal Household
Chaucer received ample payment. There
are records that clothing was provided for
him, and he was sure of a place at the
palace table. In addition, from what we
know of the customs of the great house-
holds of the time, we may be sure that he
came in for many a perquisite and reward.
It was the fashion to be lavish, to keep
open house, to bestow favors freely ; which
is not so very remarkable when we remem-
ber that the wealth of the nobles came to
them without effort, and without payment
for the goods, money, or services the pro-
ducing classes were forced to contribute.
It seems to have been recognized that
the lords of the land, in requital for the
privileges they enjoyed, owed to the work-
ers some return in generosity. The com-
mon people had for many years been con-
sidered as going with the lands they tilled,
and as being entitled in return for their
work to some share in the wealth they
created for those who claimed the right to
rule those lands.
51
CHAPTER IV
CHAUCER BECOMES A SOLDIER, IS CAP-
TURED AND R^^XSOMED HE MARRIES
In speaking of Chaucer's becoming a
page, mention was made of the pageant
that marched through London when the
Black Prince conducted King John of
France, captured at the battle of Poitiers,
to Westminster Hall. The royal prisoner
had been since held in London.
During this captivity of the French
king attempts were made to bring about a
treaty of peace with France, and two car-
dinals came from France to London to
learn what Edward demanded. King Ed-
ward was willing to renounce his claim to
the French crown, but insisted that he re-
tain all territory he had won, which would
52
A Soldier — His Marriage
have given him half the kingdom of
France, and asked four million golden
crowns ransom for the king and other
Franch captives. King John, being a
prisoner, naturally signed the treaty; but
his subjects were not In prison, and so re-
jected It, and the English king gathered
an enormous force at Dover to invade
France. He is said to have raised 100,000
men.
France In these years, 1358 and 1359,
was In desperate condition. The upris-
ing of the peasants, known as the "Jac-
querie," had laid waste a great part of
the country, for great mobs of ragged,
hungry, desperate men had swarmed over
the land, capturing even strong castles by
mere weight of numbers, and leaving be-
hind them blackened ruins and slain nobles.
The uprising had been put down, but this
class rebellion and the civil wars had left
Httle security anywhere. The peasants,
says a French historian, "had been forced
In the Days of Chaucer
to turn their church towers into fortresses,"
where sentinels remained to give w^arning
of the approach of enemies. At night the
farming folk lodged in boats moored In
the rivers, or hid themselves with their cat-
tle in underground caves. Crops almost
failed, and famine was everywhere.
To invade a land so miserable — a land
that could hardly feed its own people — it
was necessary to take with the English
army provisions for its support. King
Edward prepared his army as if he were
to enter a desert. It was the "largest, best-
equipped, best-officered army England had
ever sent forth," and besides English sol-
diers there were large numbers of Euro-
pean allies from Germany, Flanders, and
other lands then at enmity with France.
With the king were his four sons, and with
the train of Lionel went his page Chau-
cer, upon his first military expedition.
In October the great force was landed
at Calais, and when it advanced into the
54
A Soldier — His Marriage
enemy's country it was followed by a pro-
cession six miles long of wagons, bearing
mills, forges, grain, and even light fishing-
boats of boiled leather, to be used on the
rivers. There was no human enemy that
could check their progress ; but the Novem-
ber days and nights were cold, and rain
"fell without ceasing." The EngHsh were
miserable, and labored on to the city of
Rheims — where Edward hoped to be
crowned King of France ; but after a siege
of seven weeks Edward was compelled to
march on. He advanced to Paris, and
there met only the same enemies — cold,
wet, hunger, for the French wisely re-
mained within their walls, until famine
should drive Edward away.
During some part of this expedition
Chaucer fell into the hands of the French.
It seems likely that he may have been
captured while ''foraging" — that is, wan-
dering about the country trying to find
some poor farmer who might still be in
55
In the Days of Chaucer
possession of a pig or cow or a sack of
grain that could be carried off. The old
chronicler Froissart says that during the
two months that the English were before
Rheims, "so great was the scarcity of corn
of all sorts that parties were sent to forage
as much as ten or twelve miles aw^ay."
Another way in \Yhich Chaucer may
have been taken is while hunting. With
King Edward were "thirty falconers on
horseback, with their hawks, sixty couple
of hounds, and as many greyhounds.
Every day he took the pleasure of either
hunting or fishing." Perhaps while upon
one of these hunting expeditions Chaucer
may have come into collision with some
wandering body of French men-at-arms.
He must have fallen into the hands of dis-
ciplined soldiers, as he w^as held for ran-
som. We know nothing, however, of the
method of his capture, though it was dur-
ing the siege of a little town, the name of
which is variously given, but which was
56
A Soldier — His Marriage
probably Rethel, in Ardennes, a little over
twenty miles north-east from Rhelms. This
was in the district overrun by the Eng-
lish during the siege of Rheims, and was
a fortified place of some size and strength.
If this were the place of Chaucer's capture,
the young soldier escaped the worst part
of this unfortunate campaign — the hard
march to Paris.
Edward's grand expedition meanwhile
had failed, and he marched to Brittany,
followed by French emissaries, who hoped
to make peace; but Edward refused all
terms, until convinced that there was noth-
ing but disaster to be found in continuing
the campaign. Although the French army
would not fight, the miserable peasantry
made all the resistance possible.
On the retreat from Rheims toward
Paris, for example, there was a fierce
skirmish at a village near Compiegne, in
which a gigantic peasant, known as "Big
Ferre," killed eighteen of the English with
57
In the Days of Chaucer
his axe and wounded more. The Eng-
lish, two hundred in number, took flight.
A larger force met with the same fate, and
then "Big Ferre" fell sick of fever, be-
cause, the old chronicler tells us, he "drank
cold water."
Ferre being ill, the English sent twelve
soldiers to take him; whereupon he rose
from his bed, took up his axe, "which was
so heavy an ordinary man could hardly lift
it with two hands," and killed five of them,
and the rest fled. But Ferre drank more
cold water and died, leaving behind him
the memory of his valorous deeds.
Some of the English were captured here,
but we are told that the peasants slew their
prisoners, so Chaucer, as has been said,
was probably taken by regular soldiery.
After leaving Paris and m.arching south-
westward, Edward's army was overtaken,
April 13, 1360, by a hailstorm so furious
that men and beasts were killed. The
frightened king vowed that he would make
58
A Soldier — His Marriage
peace, and within three weeks a treaty was
signed at Bretigny. The record of the ran-
som of prisoners names Chaucer, and
shows £i6 paid by King Edward for his
ransom or toward it. This amount, equal
in value to over $900 to-day, is less than
the same record shows to have been paid
for a war-horse — a fact only recorded as in-
dicating that Chaucer was probably young
(and hence born later than 1328), and
not a seasoned warrior.
The length of Chaucer's imprisonment
could not have exceeded a few months, as
the treaty was signed early in May, 1360,
and the document telling of the payment
of ransom is dated March i, 1360. We
know that Edward arrived before the tow-
ers and walls of Rheims at the end of
November, only to see the gates closed in
his face by the archbishop. The siege
lasted seven weeks or two months, so prob-
ably Chaucer's captivity lasted only from
early in December, at worst, to March first
59
In the Days of Chaucer
— certainly not longer than three months,
and possibly less.
This captivity was far from unlucky for
the young soldier. In the first place it
saved him from the terrible midwinter
march to Paris, and the fruitless siege of
the capital. And in the captivity we must
not fancy Chaucer chained to a stone wall
in some darksome dungeon, below the
foundations of a gloomy dungeon tower,
and fed upon dry bread moistened with
draughts from a jug of stale water. In
feudal days captives of any worth were
held for the sake of their ransom. They
yielded themselves formally when capt-
ured, and were then put upon parole, or
promise not to escape. It was not neces-
sary, therefore, to keep them securely, and
there was no reason for maltreating a mere
prisoner of w^ar. Abuse of a captive was
usually due to some personal spite or to
feelings of revenge. Besides, It w^as quite
possible that the next turn of fortune's
60
A Soldier — His Marriage
wheel might make the captor captive to his
prisoner; and this tended to insure kindly
treatment.
We may imagine Chaucer, therefore, to
have lived in the castle of some French
lord, much as he had lived in his own
land, and hardly conscious that he was in
a foreign country. Undoubtedly he spoke
French fluently, for even if Edward's
French campaigns helped to render the
language less popular, they certainly made
It more familiar.
Chaucer would be likely to increase his
reading of the French literature, if fortu-
nate enough to be held in a castle where
there were manuscripts. The literature of
France was extensive and popular ; that the
works of French poets were familiar to
Chaucer his later poems show. He may
thus have made his first acquaintance with
many of the amusing "fabliaux," or fables
in rhyme, with the romances of Walter
Map and Robert de Borrou, and with
6i
In the Days of Chaucer
stones of the Round Table — all of which
were In existence then — during his captiv-
ity ; and the list may easily be made longer,
for French literature then was copious.
The chief result of Chaucer's military
experience is to be found in the contact
with active life. It gave him a knowledge
of the types of men who made up the Eng-
lish army. He saw in a campaign — inglo-
rious though it was — the soldier in the
field, on the march, in camp, in a siege.
His training in the tilt-yard, in the use
of weapons, in climbing ladders, in riding
and swimming (all these were practised by
the squires of noble families), had made
him appreciative of the feats of men-at-
arms, and had given him a desire to see the
renowned soldiers of England. The jour-
ney to France was worth while if it did no
more than fill the poet's mind with the
pictures of the knights in chain-mail pro-
tected by the artfully jointed plate-armor
that fitted the figure closely and yet gave
62
A Soldier — His Marriage
freedom of action; with the rich military
"jupons" worn over the armor and bear-
ing in colors the wearer's arms ; the brightly
colored surcoat that served as cloak; the
gay pennons and standards, and all the
pageantry of knighthood in arms, finery to
delight an artistic eye.
Together with these brilliant figures,
Chaucer must have learned to know the
worth of the English archers. Since the
battles of Crecy and Poitiers the archers
had ranked high in the estimation of king
and people. Minor engagements might
still be fought without them, but great bat-
tles were to be won mainly by the artillery
— the longbow-men. These were the Eng-
lish citizens, the men of cities, tow^ns, and
countryside, bowmen from early boyhood.
English archers wore no armor, and
needed none, beyond a metal headpiece.
They carried long "mantelets," or shields,
and were dressed in quilted jerkins.
Through their belts a knife was carried,
63
In the Days of Chaucer
but they did not expect to fight at close
quarters. They did not stand to receive a
charge of horsemen, but left that task to
their own horsemen, who bore lances, axes,
maces (steel clubs), and heavy Swords.
The archers were meant to prevent the
charge; and this they had done at Crecy,
where their long shafts had pierced armor
of horse and man even at 900 feet distance.
Another sort of soldier was the Welsh
or the Irish footman, armed only with a
long knife or a spear, but greatly to be
dreaded by the dismounted knight whose
horse had been slain under him. Of little
value until the enemies were in disorder,
these irregular soldiers completed the rout
when once the ranks had been broken.
With all these, as well as with the
armorers, the camp-followers, the drivers
of the great four-horse wagons that car-
ried the supplies, Chaucer became familiar;
and by this expedition he came to know
many classes of the English people with
64
A Soldier — His Marriage
whom his previous life had given him no
intimate acquaintance ; and thus his knowl-
edge and his human sympathies were
broadened. No other writer of his time
had so wide and so deep a view of human-
ity, and though Chaucer's poems were
written for a noble audience — the true
^^gentle readers," for that is the meaning
of the words — he enters into the life and
souls of his characters of all degrees, and
makes us feel his sympathy with them as
hardly another writer in all our literature
has done.
Even Shakespeare holds himself more
aloof from the common people, touches
them less tenderly, views them with less
kindliness. And Chaucer perhaps owes
his breadth of sympathy to such experi-
ences as this dreary campaign in French
territory, when the English soldiers needed
all their good-humor and fellow-feeling to
help their endurance of frost, famine, and
hardship.
65
In the Days of Chaucer
After his release from captivity Chau-
cer made his way back to London, travel-
ling probably on horseback, and certainly
taking advantage of whatever escort he
could, since France was then overrun with
adventurous robbers, discharged soldiers,
outlawed peasants, and could not have
been a safe land for the lonely traveller.
Arriving at the coast, he would have no
difficulty in securing a vessel to England,
since there were regular boats sailing
across the channel and carrying passengers
at a fixed price ; and once in his own coun-
try, he would soon find himself once more
in the household of the king.
There were plenty of public events dur-
ing Chaucer's life at the English court,
and it would be easy to make a list of these,
and then imagine him taking the part in
them that would naturally fall to an at-
tendant upon the king. But this takes
much for granted. Of course it is likely
that he was at some of the more important
66
A Soldier — His Marriage
— such as the great feast held at Windsor
in honor of the founding of King Ed-
ward's famous Order of the Garter, in
1357; at the reception to Prince Edward,
when returning in triumph from Crecy, as
already told; at Christmas merrymakings;
or at the ceremonious funeral of Queen
Isabella, which was held in Greyfriars
Church, London.
But he may have been left at home while
more important officials were in attendance
on the royal outings, and after all it is the
ordinary routine of his life that is most
interesting. The thought of the poet mak-
ing up the royal beds, arranging the
hangings of the walls, carrying torches to
light the dark halls, or setting the table
for dinner, brings him nearer to us than to
imagine him in his "paltock," or short
cloak, and his red and black breeches,
mounted upon horseback in a gay proces-
sion through London streets. In a crowd
of courtiers he seems to lose individuality;
67
In the Days of Chaucer
but to imagine him sitting in the ante-
chamber, reading some old parchment
while he is waiting a summons from his
patrons, is to help us to understand how
his mind took shape, and how he learned
to make poems.
There is nothing to show just how long
he remained in the service of Prince Lionel.
His ransom, or part of it, was paid by the
king, and this may be evidence that he had
already been promoted to attend upon
King Edward. We know that in later
years this change took place, but cannot
date its beginning, unless we consider that
when Lionel was appointed to be the
king's lieutenant in Ireland, in 136 1, Chau-
cer remained in England and was trans-
ferred to the father's retinue.
A more important question that belongs
to these years between Chaucer's return
from France and his appearance in the
court accounts as "valettus," or serving-
man to Edward, in 1367, is the poet's mar-
68
A Soldier — His Marriage
riage. There has been much controversy
about the time of the marriage and the
identity of his wife — controversy that may
be carefully reviewed by those who wish
to settle the question for themselves. The
best opinion seems to be that he was mar-
ried, about 1365 or 1366, to Philippa
Roet, one of the ladies in service at court,
holding in the queen's service the same
position that Chaucer held in that of
the king. She was daughter of Sir Paon
de Roet, of Hainault, and sister of Cath-
erine Roet, widow of Sir Hugh Swynford.
This sister taught the children of John of
Gaunt, and became in later years his wife,
and from her was descended Henry VII.
Though this Philippa is by some critics
said to be not the Philippa whom Chau-
cer married (a pension granted in 1374
shows that Philippa was his wife's name),
yet there is a curious proof that she was a
Roet. Thomas Chaucer, who in later
years was speaker of the House of Com-
.69
In the Days of Chaucer
mons, used two coats-of-arms. One is the
same that we find on the poet's tomb in
Westminster Abbey. The other is that of
the Roet family. This Thomas is be-
lieved to be Chaucer's eldest son by Phil-
ippa Roet, and therefore to have borne
both coats-of-arms. Those interested in
heraldry may be glad to have the descrip-
tion of these arms. Chaucer's are "Per
pale argent and gules, a bend counter-
changed." The Roet family bore "Gules,
three Catherine wheels or." This seems
strong proof. If it be accepted, if Chau-
cer married one so closely allied to the
royal family, it is easy to understand all
the aid he received from them throughout
his whole life.
70
CHAPTER V
Chaucer's earnings and his foreign
journeys
So now, as a preparation for his poetical
life, we see Chaucer returning to London,
to enter once more upon his service in the
king's household. All we know of this
part of his life is taken from dry account-
books and official entries, and now and
then we can add to these a gleam of infor-
mation derived from his poems.
But of Shakespeare we know no more
than this, except a few scraps handed
down by tradition; and whether we can
rely upon these, we cannot tell.
Both poets, if the evidence is to be ac-
cepted, were practical men of business:
Shakespeare as manager, playwright, and
land-owner, Chaucer as court attendant and
71
In the Days of Chaucer
officer of the customs. Supreme In works
of the Imagination, neither lacked prac-
tical ability.
Chaucer's business life covered about
forty years, and his writings never seemed
to Interfere with his business life. He was
employed while at home In England In
clerk work of a minute and painstaking
kind, and when sent abroad he gave his
services to the king In the most Important
matters, and had for his companions men
,of high position.
The first Item in the accounts that
names Chaucer concerns the granting to
him of a life pension, or allowance of
twenty marks a year. He Is called In the
grant ''dllectus valetus noster," which Is
about equal to the English phrase "our
trusty follower." From the amount of the
salary we may argue something of his Im-
portance In the royal household. The
mg^rk was an amount, not a coin; and
twenty marks meant 3,200 silver pennies
72
Business Life
a year — such pennies as are still preserved
In the British Museum. Allowing for the
greater buying power of money five cen-
turies ago, Chaucer enjoyed an income
equal to about $5,000 a year.
For a young man of twenty-seven or so
this was an excellent income, and shows he
was holding a place of some importance,
that he was a substantial citizen of Lon-
don, able to provide comfortably for him-
self and his wife Philippa.
And when we note the dry facts of the
poet's business life, it must not be forgot-
ten that In with the working days came the
days and the evenings of recreation. Lon-
don under Edward III was anything but
dull, even when we note only the happen-
ings historians have thought worth describ-
ing; and there were minor merrymakings
and spectacles in abundance.
Thus old chronicles tell us that it was
not unusual for the damsels of London city
to dance at evening in the streets until
73
In the Days of Chaucer
moonrise, being rewarded for especial skill
by garlands of flowers. There were street
musicians to play before the citizens' doors,
jugglers to show tricks, even public story-
tellers to amuse city idlers. Then we must
not forget the trade-guilds with their ban-
ners and processions; the hunting parties
with hawks and hounds, riding through
London streets early in the morning; the
general keeping of holidays — such as May-
day, with its dances and sports.
All these found place, and Chaucer
knew them, for we shall meet in his poems
with descriptive bits proving his acquaint-
ance with that side of life. But now we
will briefly note the facts of his business
career, treating it generally and once for
all, not taking it up year by year. All the
rest of his business life was that of an
active, mature man until his death, at about
the age of sixty, and was really separate
from his life as a poet.
He remained, except for an interval to
74
Business Life
be spoken of later, officially attached to
the king's court. A valet in 1367, he be-
came a "squire of less degree" in 1368;
and four years later he is entitled ^^regis
scutifer^''^ or "king's shield-bearer," that
is, squire, and sometimes "armiger," or
"arms-bearer." Both of these arc merely
titles of rank, rather than descriptive of
practical duties; for we know Chaucer
was more a man of business than either
courtier or soldier by profession. In
1369, however, there is a record of a pay-
ment of £10 made to Chaucer while in the
war in France; and in April, 1370, his pen-
sion was not drawn by him in person but
by another, which may show that Chau-
cer was abroad for some time upon a sec-
ond military expedition. This expedition
had no picturesque features, and resulted
only in an English army's marching about
over the ravaged land of France while
their enemies remained shut securely in
fortified cities, safe from attack and refus-
75
In the Days of Chaucer
ing to risk a battle with the invaders.
Nothing is known about Chaucer's experi-
ences with the English army, and it is even
doubtful whether he took any part in this
campaign commanded by the Black Prince.
In June, 1370, letters of protection — a
passport — were issued to Chaucer "on oc-
casion of his going abroad in the service
of the king," Professor Lounsbury says,
and adds that we know nothing of his
errand, and can argue nothing from the
record unless it is that Chaucer had then
returned to England from the expedition
to France.
Tantalizing as are these scraps of knowl-
edge, it is only by piecing together these
little bits and arguing about them that men
are gradually putting in shape the facts
concerning the poet's life. For years
scholars have been patiently reading and
examining enormous masses of accounts,
letters, documents, records, receipts, and
noting carefully every scrap that gives the
76
A
Business Life
least promise of contributing something
about Chaucer's doings, and the result has
been at least to prove that many stories
told of the poet upon the authority of care-
less writers cannot be true. So we must be
patient with the useful little dates, even if
they do not interest us intensely.
Thus we learn from an entry in another
account that in June, 1374, John of Gaunt
granted ten pounds a year for life to the
poet and his wife, probably in substitution
for a pension that had been conferred on
Phlllppa Chaucer two years before. An-
other gift, made In April of the same year,
was a daily pitcher of wine to be received
"at the port of London from the hands of
the king's butler," and this gift also was
commuted into a sum of money, which later
was fixed at twenty marks a year for life.
This addition doubled Chaucer's salary,
and made him a well-paid official while
still under forty.
There were also other allowances made
77
In the Days of Chaucer
him, in the nature of commissions for ser-
vices in taking charge of the estates of
minor children, and fines granted him dur-
ing his service as customs-officer, and at
this time it will not be extravagant to con-
sider the poet as enjoying an income of a
value approaching $15,000.
For this handsome payment Chaucer no
doubt gave good value in personal work.
One sort of employment in which he was
engaged now and then for ten years was
as king's commissioner abroad. Between
1370 and 1380 he appears to have gone
six or seven times to foreign countries on
the king's service. One time has been
noted in 1370; two years later Chaucer
went to Genoa and to Florence, being
absent nearly a full year, and in this jour-
ney, if In no previous one, it is possible
that he saw the Italian poet Petrarch. In
1377 Chaucer made two other journeys;
and at this time Froissart names him as
one of those sent to France to arrange a
78
Business Life
formal marriage between Richard, heir to
the English crown, and Princess Isabel of
France, then a small child. One more
mission to France, in 1378, and another to
Lombardy complete the list.
For our purposes we need not bear
these journeys in mind except as indicating
the nature of Chaucer's services to the
government. They cover a wide variety
of subjects. That to Genoa was diplo-
matic and commercial, having to do with
the question of a harbor in England for
the Genoese merchants. One to France
concerned a royal marriage and the mak-
ing of peace between the nations; others
had to do with military matters. All this
indicates that the poet was skilled in
affairs, a man of good judgment, and trust-
worthy in matters of greatest importance;
for in such duties the king would not have
wished to employ one who was merely an
agreeable maker of verses, a pensioned
poet, and personal friend.
79
In the Days of Chaucer
As to the journeys themselves, one
might envy Chaucer the experiences they
brought him. Undoubtedly the noblemen
and king's commissioners travelled on
horseback and accompanied by a suitable
escort of soldiers and attendants. Ferried
over the straits of Dover in big sail-boats,
they would land at Calais, and there find
entertainment in some of the numerous
inns, or possibly with the English who
lived in the castle in the city.
From Calais they would ride forth into
the open country, timing their journey so
as to bring them by night to some town or
city that could give them shelter and food,
and ever on the lookout during the day
for the outlaws who considered travellers
as their rightful prey. Every bit of wood-
land was a possible ambuscade, and only to
be entered with caution.
Upon their way they would see rising
here and there upon a mound, or resting
within the bend of a river, one of those
80
Business Life
great strongholds that had so often pro-
tected the French during the EngHsh in-
vasions — walled towns that were enormous
fortresses, with towers, keeps, and moats;
single castles extending over acres of
ground, and rising hundreds of feet into
the air, great blank piles of stone, scarcely
broken by windows that were little more
than loop-holes; manor farms hardly less
fortified than the castles themselves. For
this was the age when feudal castles were
at their strongest and most picturesque
period.
In the wilder parts it is probable they
met few people, for the villeins and thralls
were only too glad to keep out of the way
of their superiors, and farming labors
were carried on usually within safe dis-
tance of some retreat from attack. Those
parties met upon the road were likely to
be either travellers like themselves; wan-
dering churchmen protected by their of-
fice; the minstrels, mummers, tumblers, or
8i
In the Days of Chaucer
other mountebanks whose calling required
them to lead an unsettled and nomadic
life; or the hunting parties that with
hawks and dogs roamed over the country.
There was not so much difference then
as now between the Inhabitants of one
country of Christendom and another, save
for the peculiar customs of small localities.
The English and the French peasant were
much alike, so were the merchants of Paris
and those of London; w^hile the knights
and soldiers could be distinguished from
one another only by their coats-of-arms
and other badges. The armor was not
very different in different countries, for. a
knight was glad to get the best-made mail
wherever it was produced. There was no
military uniform. The church, too, dressed
its members alike in all lands: the French
priest was like the Spanish priest; the Eng-
lish bishop like the Italian.
All this followed naturally from the
sway of feudal customs over all Chrlsten-
82
Business Life
dom. Even the method of dividing off
the farming lands had been affected by the
same cause. In assigning work to villeins
and thralls, land had to be marked into
long, narrow strips, rather than into square
fields. One of these strips was the amount
to be ploughed, planted, and reaped by a
certain dependent in giving due service to
the lord. Though this system was passing
away, its effects upon land division long
remained.
These considerations may tend to show
that in the days of Chaucer foreign travel
had something less of strangeness in it, so
long as the journeys were confined to the
more familiar parts of Europe. Castles
and walled cities were generally similar
everywhere ; costume did not vary greatly ;
general customs differed but little. As to
landscape, natural scenery was little re-
garded save by a few men far ahead of
their time — of whom Chaucer was one —
and the traveller, unless he could tell of
83
In the Days of Chaucer
strange adventures or the marvels of un-
explored regions, would excite little Inter-
est by telling his own countrymen of his
journeys.
This helps us to understand the absence
of the "travel literature" In the writings
of travellers of the time. In reading the
"Chronicles" of Froissart, for example, we
find him describing persons and events
rather than countries and scenes ; recording
fully stories of battles, tournaments, and
sieges, but only by accident putting in par-
ticulars as to the general state of the lands
he saw and the peoples whom he knew.
Froissart was probably a few years older
than Chaucer, and it is likely that the two
met on more than one occasion. Indeed,
Froissart (according to the Encyclopaedia
Britannica) mentions Chaucer as being
with Prince Lionel, on the expedition to
Milan, to marry the daughter of Galeazzo
VIscontI; and records that Petrarch was a
guest at the wedding-banquet, seated
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among the princes. This was In June,
1368. But all this is disputed by some
authorities.
From Frolssart's book we may learn
how a dinner was conducted In one of the
feudal castles — the lord of a castle being
preceded to supper by twelve servants
bearing lighted torches, and being enter-
tained by minstrels during the two hours
he sat at table. Fanciful dishes were cere-
moniously placed before him, and then
sent In compliment to be placed before his
guests.
In this formal way Chaucer and his dis-
tinguished companions In embassies were
entertained by the knights whose castles
they visited; and during these hospitalities
Chaucer would have opportunities to listen
to the poems and ballads recited for the
hearing of the guests, and would thereby
become familiar with the literature of the
time rather by way of amusement than as
a serious study.
85
In the Days of Chaucer
Singing and recitations were often va-
ried by the "jongleurs," or jugglers and
acrobats, with their trained animals, who
exhibited feats of strength or skill, and to
such shows Chaucer makes allusions in his
poems.
86
CHAPTER VI
CHAUCER AT HOME IN LONDON HIS
BUSINESS LIFE
On the authority of some statements in
the "Testament of Love," once Included
with Chaucer's works, it was formerly as-
serted positively that he was a native of
London. But this piece of writing is now
excluded from the collection of his authen-
tic works, and we do not know with cer-
tainty more than that Chaucer was long a
resident of the city.
The greater part of his life was passed
there save for enforced absences, when
upon royal errands or in attendance upon
his patrons of the king's household, and it
Is not strange that he found abroad no city
to rival London In his heart.
Close by his father's home were two
87
In the Days of Chaucer
monuments of the past that even in his
day spoke of antiquity — the To^er of
London, that part of it known as the
White Tower, and Westminster Abbey
had stood certainly for more than two hun-
dred and fifty years at the time of Chau-
cer's first knowledge of them, and London
was already an old city and the capital of
England before their beginning. The
White Tower w^as built on the foundations
once laid for a Roman stronghold, and to
men of Chaucer's period the city w^as
already ancient, although we consider them
as living in the childhood of modern Eng-
land; and one visible sign of the city's age
was the great fortress, the monument of
William the Conqueror, and the home of
all his descendants. All the Edwards had
occupied It, and it had been ever the centre
of England's power.
The Abbey, called by Frederick Harri-
son "the true cradle of the mother of Par-
liaments," and the Hall of Westminster
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Business Life in London
are grouped by that English writer, with
the Tower, as completing the "three match-
less remnants of Old London"; and all
were familiar to Chaucer from his boy-
hood, and prominent In his mental picture
of the city.
During his life a clock In Westminster
was made to strike the hours, a mechanical
marvel for those days, and worth men-
tioning, as It must have been a nine days'
wonder In London. He must have been
present sometimes at the building of
Windsor Castle, for in 1344 Edward III
planned a great Round Tower to be built
here because he believed King Arthur had
placed his Round Table in the same spot.
Edward Intended the castle as a meeting-
place for the "Knights of the Garter," his
newly established order, and also erected
a chapel of St. George near by. To carry
out these building operations the king
made regular levies of workmen, summon-
ing craftsmen from various localities, so
89
In the Days of Chaucer
many from each town, as if calling out an
army, which reveals something as to the
treatment of laborers in those days.
The duties performed by Chaucer while
resident in London were at first in con-
nection with the customs of the port of
London. June 8, 1374, he was appointed
"controller of the customs and subsidy of
wools, skins, and tanned hides" in that
port, and by the terms of his appointment
was required to do the work in person and
to keep the records in his own handwriting.
The nature of work must have been that
of inspector and recorder of the cargoes
unloaded and loaded, and keeper of the
accounts of the port in regard to the mer-
chandise mentioned.
As wool-growing was becoming con-
stantly more important in England, Chau-
cer's position was no sinecure. The great
plague had made farm laborers scarce,
and grazing required fewer men than agri-
culture, so more and more acres were being
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Business Life in London
devoted every year to the raising of sheep
and cattle.
Chaucer at this time lived over that
gate of London known as Aldgate, having
leased the dwelling the month before his
appointment in the customs service. In
this place he lived twelve years, probably
having selected it as being convenient for
his work as customs official. If this work
required him to go every day to the
Thames his natural route would be di-
rectly past the Tower, morning and even-
ing.
If we do not forget that we are merely
making believe, we can imagine Chaucer
arising in the morning, hurrying through
his breakfast, and making his way along
the busy streets to his place of business.
Then, with his ink-horn at his girdle and
quill-pen in hand, we can imagine him
listening to the Flemish merchants, eagerly
desirous of finishing ''that bothersome cus-
tom business with Master Chaucer,'' the
91
In the Days of Chaucer
king's comptroller. We see him taking
toll of the ''tods" of wool, the bales of
hides, or rolls of leather, fixing the charges
and, it may be, disputing with some sharp
fellow who is trying to cheat the customs,
and needs looking after.
Edward the Third was trying, by means
of a single tax on wool, to do away with
a great number of other charges, and thus
to simplify business, and also to secure the
large revenue necessary in that age of mili-
tary expeditions, foreign wars, and im-
provements at home. This was the result
of a sort of bargain he had made with his
people as represented by the first regular
parliament.
The wool trade was the most important
to the crown of any in the kingdom, and
with this Chaucer w^as concerned.
After a day spent thus, Chaucer was no
doubt only too glad to walk away from
leather, wool, merchants, and all that re-
minded him of trade. He would arrive
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Business Life in London
at his rooms over the Aldgate, In the
thickness of the city wall, and be glad
enough to lay aside his hood and long
gown for some lighter garment.
We are forbidden, however, to grant
him either a morning cup of coffee before
starting out or an after-dinner cigar when
the day's work was done. Several hun-
dreds of years must pass before either Is
attainable In England. But we are not
forbidden to represent him as welcomed
home by a loving wife to a cleanly set of
rooms and a comforting dinner. For al-
though some biographers of the poet are
convinced that the poet's married life was
unhappy, the evidence they bring for-
ward to support their opinion seems to
be entirely too slight to warrant any such
Inference.
Let us for a moment examine this evi-
dence for ourselves, as we may easily do,
since It consists of a few extracts from his
poems, and a brief argument based upon
93
In the Days of Chaucer
them, and since the tradition that Chau-
cer's married hfe was unhappy is one that
should be laid to rest if it be unwarranted.
First, it is to be plainly understood that
we know nothing whatever about the mar-
riage by direct testimony. No one has
ever claimed any knowledge on the sub-
ject. But there are a few passages in
Chaucer's works in which his remarks on
wives and marriage, and his supposed
allusions to his own experience, are sup-
posed to indicate his dissatisfaction.
It has already been said that Chaucer's
marriage took place about 1366 or not
long before. One of the few poems which
can be positively dated is Chaucer's "Book
of the Duchess," for It must have been
written about the time of the death of
Blanche, first wife of John of Gaunt, be-
ing based upon that event. She died in the
autumn of 1369, during the third great
pestilence that occurred during King Ed-
ward's reign.
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Business Life in London
In this poem Chaucer begins by lament-
ing that he cannot sleep because of a
settled melancholy and depression he has
suffered eight years. The cause of this he
declares is unknown to himself, and that
there is "physician but one that may me
heal; but that is done."
This concludes the passage, since the
poet then begins to tell the vision of which
the poem consists. But upon this allusion
critics have built up a romantic story, as a
boy might blow a tiny film of soapy water
into an enormous bubble. They begin by
assuming that the "sickness" lasting eight
years was an unrequited love for some fair
but hard-hearted damsel — who is the "one
physician," mentioned in the poem, that
could bring him relief from the miseries
of a disappointed lover.
If Chaucer had been a despairing lover
from 13 6 1 to 1369, either he was in love
with someone else than his wife (though
his marriage took place about 1366!) or
95
In the Days of Chaucer
else he was not married till after this poem
was written.
To combat such a vague argument as
these lines in the "Book of the Duchess"
furnish seems worthy of Don Quixote,
fighter of windmills. If asked what the
lines mean, what the "sickness" lasting
eight years could have been, it seems
simpler to say that we do not know. Pos-
sibly Chaucer was a high-strung, intellect-
ual man, a little overworked, and found
trouble in sleeping. Who the "one phy-
sician" may have been we do not know
either. But it does seem that any fair-
minded reader would find these few vague
lines an insufficient basis for the fanciful
structure some have erected upon them.
Professor Lounsbury says these are "words
whose meaning no man knows, and prob-
ably no man ever can know," and this view
seems eminently sane.
So much for that suggestion of an un-
happy marriage. Of course, if we assume
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Business Life in London
(as some do) that Chaucer's marriage was
subsequent to the supposed love-affair,
there Is nothing In the lines to affect the
happiness of his marriage one way or the
other.
Two more passages are by some thought
to give evidence toward proving that
Geoffrey and Phlllppa were not a happy
couple. There is one In "Lenvoy de
Chaucer a Bukton" — Chaucer's Counsel
to Bukton concerning Marriage. This Is
a cynical little poem, written late In Chau-
cer's life, containing the usual smart com-
monplaces against marriage, and a humor-
ous admission that the author dare not
speak against marrying for fear lest he
should marry again; and also advising his
friend to marry, since, whatever its trou-
bles, marriage Is a better state for men
than single life. In short, this poem has
no claim to be cited as a proof even that
Chaucer believed most marriages unhappy,
and sheds no possible light on his own ex-
97
In the Days of Chaucer
perience. It is written some nine years
later than the death of Philippa Chaucer,
so even if his Hfe with her had been un-
happy Chaucer's sense of suffering could
not have been especially poignant. The
poem says only, "If you are contented, why
take any risk?" and points out that mar-
riage is in a sense always a bondage.
The third passage relied on is in the
"House of Fame," and represents Chaucer
as carried aloft by Jove's messenger, the
eagle. Chaucer swoons, and is brought to
by the eagle's voice saying: "Awake!"
The poet says the summons was given —
** Right in the same voice and Steven
That useth one I coulde neven."
Which means, "the call to awake was in
the same voice used by one I could name."
And from this it is argued that Chaucer
referred to his wife; that she used to call
him in the morning in a voice like an
eagle's; that she was unkind to him; that
therefore he was unhappily married!
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Business Life in London
One grudges the time and space to an-
swer such reasoning. The case may be
safely left to the judgment of any un-
prejudiced reader, with full confidence that
it will be plainly seen there is no evidence
to prove Chaucer's marriage either fortu-
nate or otherwise. The chances are that
it was about the same as a million other
marriages and partnerships — with much to
make it a blessing and some things to
regret.
As little to be trusted are other theories
based upon selected portions of Chaucer's
writings. Authorship is one thing and
autobiography another, and it would be an
easy matter to make a long list of writers
whose lives were anything but parallel to
their writings.
Of the appearance of Chaucer in man-
hood we luckily are fairly sure. A por-
trait of him was painted by his friend, the
poet Occleve, on the margin of a manu-
script. This picture was expressly said to
99 LofC.
In the Days of Chaucer
be painted from memory for the purpose
of Insuring that the features of Occleve's
friend and master might not be forgotten.
Of this portrait Occleve speaks thus:
** Although his life be queynt, the resemblance
Of him hath in me so fresh liveliness.
That to put other men in remembrance
Of his person, I here his likeness
Do make, to this end in soothfastness.
That they that have of him lost thought and mind.
By this painture may again him find."
It Is the familiar portrait so often re-
produced, showing Chaucer wearing a
dark hood, the end of which falls just back
of his left shoulder, and a long, loose-
sleeved robe with a clerical collar. In one
hand Is what looks like a string of beads,
and the other hand Is raised as If he were
speaking. The face Is mild and grave, the
forehead broad, the chin fine and pointed.
Beard and hair are gray, and moustache
and beard are both clipped close.
The portrait shows a most attractive
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Business Life in London
personality, and a man full of dignified
good sense.
In the "Canterbury Tales" also there is
a pen-portrait of the author, which may be
quoted, though we must bear in mind the
possibility that In writing of himself a de-
scription to be read aloud the poet may
have Introduced certain exaggerations or
contradictions with the purpose of amusing
his audience.
The Host, who had the direction of the
pilgrims, calls upon Chaucer to contribute
his story:
*« What man art thou ? *' quoth he.
** Thou lookest on the ground as thou wouldest find a
hare.
For ever upon the ground I see thee stare.
Approache near and look up merrily.
Now, ware you, sirs, and let the man have space.
He in the waist is shaped as well as I ;
This were a poppet in an arm to embrace
For any woman, small and fair of face.
He seemeth elfish by his countenance.
For unto no wight doth he dalliance.'*
lOI
In the Days of Chaucer
The allusion to Chaucer's waist is of
course a playful way of saying that he was
stout, for the Host was of a portly figure ;
and other references by the poet show a
tendency to call himself fat. We must not
take this too seriously, however, for Oc-
cleve's portrait is not at all that of a portly
man, either in face or figure, and we all
know it is quite the regular thing for
humorous writers to make capital out of
good-humored references to their own de-
fects. Possibly he may have been small
and slender.
If in this chapter there has been some
digression upon points not connected with
the events of the poet's life at this time, the
explanation and excuse are found in the
statement so frequently made in telling the
facts of his life — there is absolutely noth-
ing except a few dated records to cover
long years.
102
CHAPTER VII
CHAUCER AND THE EVENTS OF HIS TIME
THE CHURCH
Like all men who are fond of reading,
Chaucer felt that he was Inclined to read
too much; and in his poems he reproaches
himself for burying himself among his
books as soon as his day's work Is done.
Possibly, like other wives, Dame Chaucer
thought there would be nothing so good
for her husband after a day at the office or
docks as a "brisk walk in the fresh air."
If so, like other husbands, Chaucer disre-
garded her advice sometimes, and remained
at home, with two or three candles on his
table, his elbows propped up, and his eyes
upon his beloved books and manuscripts,
or bent over his writing until the small
hours.
103
In the Days of Chaucer
His tastes were purely literary, for his
writing proves that he cared more for the
world of imagination than for the happen-
ings of the day about him. Even less than
Charles Lamb — who at least gave us some
glimpses of his business — does Chaucer let
the affairs of the customs creep into his
writings.
Often quoted are these lines, really ad-
dressed by the poet to himself :
*< For when thy labor done all is.
And hast y-made thy reckonings.
Instead of rest and newe things.
Thou goest home to thine house anoon.
And, all so dumb as any stoon.
Thou sittest at another book
Till fully dazed is thy look.
And livest thus as an hermyte
Although thine abstinence is lyte."
These lines are supposed to be said to
Chaucer by the same eagle of Jove who
is represented as having cried to him
*'Awake!" as already told. They show us
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Public Events — The Church
the poet In the occupation which meant
most to us. The so-called "practical" part
of his life — the money-making, business
side — has left no trace except a stray line
here and there in the musty records of a
dead time. But Chaucer's porlngs over
the pages of his little library brought about
the creation of a literature, and added to
that literature the eternal treasure of his
own poems.
Which then were the truly productive,
valuable hours of his life?
So far as we are concerned the life of
Phlllppa Chaucer was of value only so far
as she may have helped or hindered her
husband in his making of literature; and
of their children we likev/Ise take little
heed. From the dedication of Chaucer's
treatise on the use of the "Astrolabe" —
an instrument that for most of the world
to-day Is hardly more than a word In the
dictionary — to his son Lewis, then ten
years old, we learn all we know of one
105
In the Days of Chaucer
child. From the evidence of the coats-of-
arms and a remark by a neighbor, we con-
clude that Thomas Chaucer, a man of con-
siderable distinction in after years, was
also a son of Geoffrey and Philippa; but
that is the entire amount of knowledge we
have of the poet's family.
They are dead, in every respect; the
poet's works are to us as alive as they were
to the poet himself.
It is remarkable how little connection
can be traced between Chaucer's writings
and the happenings of the time. In 1369
the death of Blanche gave rise to the
"Book of the Duchess," with its exquisite
lament over the death of a beloved wife;
but there is no chronicle by Chaucer show-
ing that he was moved to poetical expres-
sion by the death of Queen Philippa, of
Lionel, his old master, of the Black Prince,
or of the great King Edward himself.
The poet could not have been in any re-
spect a "poet-laureate" to the royal family.
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Public Events — The Church
There was no actual poet-laureate until the
times of the Stuarts, though Chaucer has
often been mentioned as the first of the
poets-laureate of England. All of these
distinguished people must have been his
friends, and yet he writes nothing of their
lives or their deaths.
And so of historical events. During .
Chaucer's manhood England was in a tur- \
moil of changing opinions, and of stirring 1
happenings, domestic and foreign. Three ,'
great plagues devastated the land; and in
all Chaucer's thousands of lines there Is
but one side-glance referring to them, and
that is in a satirical remark about the gains
made "in pestilence'* by the Doctor of
Physic, one of the Canterbury Pilgrims. {
Shakespeare finds plenty to tell us about
Jack Cade's rebellion afer over a hundred
years had passed ; but Chaucer, living, so
far as we know, in the very city of Lon-
don when the thousands of Tyler's men
captured the city, defied the king's officers,
107
In the Days of Chancer
burned public buildings, broke into the
Tower, and murdered the primate of all
England — Chaucer has nothing to write
of all this, except to compare the noise
made in the pursuit of a fox with the
shouts of the rioters when in pursuit of a
Fleming or Flanders merchant.
John Wycliffe, the great reformer of
the English Church, finished his translation
of the Bible when Chaucer was about forty
years old. Even if we might see nothing
strange in a poet's ignoring the active life
about him and refusing to comment upon
political events, we w^ould expect any man
of thoughtful nature and serious mind to
show himself moved by the efforts of a
great teacher to purify religion and reform
the church. Yet there is not the slightest
proof upon which we can make the as-
sertion that Chaucer was even a follower
of Wycliffe or a believer In him or his
methods.
We can from his poems argue certain
io8
V
Public Events — The Church
opinions, but there is nothing definite to
connect the two men, though both were at
one time or another conducting business
matters for the court at home and abroad,
and both were trying by their writings to
spread the use of English as against Latin
and French. There is no way to explain
Chaucer's complete disregard of the great
movement in which Wycliffe was leader
except by the statement that as a poet
Chaucer did not find himself interested in
such matters unless they took living shape
in the men and women whose stories are
told in his verses.
As a soldier Chaucer did not consider
himself or his campaigns worth reference
In his poems ; and the fortunes of the Eng-
lish rule in France he likewise ignored,
though besides taking part In two expedi-
tions Chaucer was a citizen of London
from the time of Edward's first great vic-
tory to the complete loss of the French
provinces.
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In the Days of Chaucer
But there is no need to lengthen the cata-
logue, when the whole matter can be
summed up by saying that Chaucer the
man and Chaucer the poet seem two dis-
tinct individuals. It will not do to say that
all these great events did not interest him ;
but certainly they did not seem to him sub-
jects for his verse. Others who wrote verse
at the time found their inspiration just
where Chaucer never sought it. Langland
used his pen to show the woes of the peo-
ple ; Gower, Chaucer's friend, found many
a lesson for preaching in verse; but Geof-
frey, the son of John the Vintner, chose to
create pictures in words and to interpret
between his own time and the days that
were to come.
This, as Chaucer did it, was a work in
which he had no forerunners. Those from
whom he learned the art of writing verse
had devoted themselves to far different
subjects. As Taine points out, there were
two great ideas that ruled the minds of
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Public Events — The Church
men and fixed the forms In which writers
expressed their thoughts up to the time of
Chaucer. One was rehgion, the other was
chivalry; one ruled the inner life, the other
the life of action. To one or the other all
poetry was devoted, and the poet must
either preach in verse or he must sing songs
of the knights or their ladies or recount the
deeds of ancient heroes; and whether
preaching his sermon or singing his ballad,
the poet must obey the rules laid down for
his guidance.
The native literature was cast in a few
fixed forms. The writers of history re-
corded the little that was known of the
past in rhymed chronicles; and it was sel-
dom that a poet of unusual power, like
Lawrence Minot, a northern writer who
wrote in praise of Edward III and his vic-
tories, was able to put some life into his
record of battles, and to show such skill in
his rhyming and verse-making as to make
III
In the Days of Chaucer
his chronicle worth reading apart from the
facts set down.
From the chronicle or rhymed history
grew such satirical poetry as was written
by Langland In his ''Vision of Piers Plow-
man." This was an account in verse of
the state of the people of England, made
an allegory by giving fictitious names to
the characters Introduced, as In the title.
And with the chroniclers, with MInot and
Langland, must be mentioned the great
Scottish poet, John Barbour, archdeacon
of Aberdeen, who told In verse the adven-
tures of Bruce, and became the source
from which Sir Walter Scott drew many
Incidents In his poems.
All these may be considered the literary
descendants of the old monks who made
It a duty to hand down to future ages the
notable events of theit times. They wrote
with little thought of taking or giving lit-
erary pleasure in their work, and were
rather the world's diary-keepers than true
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Public Events — The Church
men of letters. If they chose to put their
histories into verse, it was because that
was the habit of their predecessors, a habit
handed down from the days when history
was put in rhyme, that it might be learned
by heart. If their verse sometimes had
the qualities of true poetry it was because
some men must do well whatever task is
laid on them.
With Chaucer's friend, John Gower, be-
gins the conquest of the field of poetry by
the English language. Gower's three long
poems were written in three languages,
first French, then Latin, and then, after
Chaucer had shown the way, in English.
Gower's French poem was a sermon ; his
Latin poem was a moral allegory telling
of the rising of the people under Tyler,
Jack Straw, and John Ball the Priest; and
his English poem is a collection of tales in
verse illustrating that "love" which was
the topic of chivalrous romances. Lowell
finds Gower's work painfully dull and
113
In the Days of Chaucer
monotonous, and, by contrast with Chau-
cer's, Gower's poems help to show how
great were the poems of his rival.
From all these Chaucer learned little;
but from the French and Italian writers
he acquired much that enabled him to
record in fitting form what his own clear
mind noted in the world around him, in
the people of his time.
It has been said that one land differed
not more but rather less from another than
the same lands differ to-day. But when
we come to look at the people of a single
nation, to consider the inhabitants of
Chaucer's England, we shall find differ-
ences among them so great that we can
with difficulty imagine the social state of
the time.
And first of the great cleavages divid-
ing Englishmen is that made by the
Church. All are either clerical or secular.
A barrier between these exists everywhere,
marking off churchmen from laymen.
114
Public Events — The Church
There Is, In most of the world, no such
division to-day. Then, the Church and Its
people were everywhere, and they were
divided In every way from the rest of the
world. They had their cathedrals, their
churches, their abbeys, their monasteries,
their courts. They had their own govern-
ment, with Its officials great and small.
They had their own laws, customs, priv-
ileges, and rights — and even in costume
they were distinguished from all around
them.
It Is hard for us to keep In mind the
many classes Into which the men of the
Church were divided — the monks, the
friars, the parsons, the pardoners, the sum-
moners, the priests, the abbots, the deacons
— there seems no end to the list. And each
was sharply and clearly defined to the peo-
ple of Chaucer's days. He will teach us to
know something of them; but It Is quite
impossible for us to know these men as
they were known then throughout Europe.
In the Days of Chaucer
We must not forget, however, that these
men were everywhere — in the streets,
churches, shops, roads, and fields — and
that each was known at sight for what he
was. They were English, it is true, and
among them there were many truly pa-
triotic and loyal citizens ; but far too many
held their allegiance to the Church to be
of first importance.
Had the Church then been in a sound
and wholesome state it might have made
this army of churchmen an influence for
the highest good ; but during Chaucer's life
the Church in England was corrupt and
weak, despite the efforts of such men as
Wycliffe to reform its abuses. The wealth
of England was largely controlled by re-
ligious corporations; and this meant that
the lands and the people were held in
virtual bondage to a master that oppressed
them under pretence of gaining wealth for
sacred purposes, and meanwhile supported
an enormous number of non-producers out
ii6
Public Events — The Church
of the rents, rates, tithes, and charges col-
lected from the workers and tradesmen.
Many churchmen did useful work, for
they had charge of the services, they taught
In the colleges and schools, they conducted
the hospitals and almshouses. But there
were not places enough for all, and many
were driven to unworthy methods In order
to make a living. On the other hand, there
were priests who lived as laymen did, and
provoked criticism by their worldllness.
They became dandified In dress, spent too
much time In hunting and social pleasures,
frequented the Inns, and consorted with the
nobles and the rich.
The monks, gatheredT into great commu-
nities under the rule of their own chiefs
the abbots, considered themselves to be un-
der the direct control of the pope and Inde-
pendent of the Church officials in England;
and this came to be the rule. This resulted
in their being such as their abbots made
them, and good or bad accordingly.
117
In the Days of Chaucer
The life in monasteries was not easy, but
proved attractive to those who preferred
the certainties of the cloister to the trials
of life outside. The monks taught, kept
the business accounts of their order, wrote
the chronicles based upon information sent
to them in letters or gathered from visiting
travellers, illuminated the service-books, at-
tended to the affairs of the monastery, its
store-rooms, kitchens, stables, and yards, or
went abroad to collect rents, transact busi-
ness with their tenants, or to oversee their
estates.
They held religious services, and for the
most part wxre men like those outside —
neither very good nor very bad.
The objection to the monasteries, in our
opinion, lay in the withdrawal from the
general life of the people rather than in
any wrongs for which the monks could be
held responsible. The monasteries were
blessings to many neighborhoods, bringing
"art, worship, devotion, learning, often in
ii8
Public Events — The Church
the highest form at that time attainable, to
a man's very doors." They civilized whole
communities, so long as they remained
sound and uncorrupt.
But the monasteries became too popular
and too rich. Their friends showered
gifts upon them, until altogether they held
about a third of all the land and all the
tithes of England.
With wealth the monasteries became ab-
sorbed more and more in the worldly side
of their life. There was little leisure left
for religious duties when the day's work
was made up so largely of business and
money-making. The abbot was the head
of a great estate, and the minor officials
were his assistants In managing farms,
sheep-runs, houses, bridges. The old Idea
of their life was gone, and with It went
much that had led to their prosperity.
As monks lost spiritual power, the order
of friars arose. "Wherever people were
wont to gather over the length and breadth
119
In the Days of Chaucer
of the land — at fair, at market, at joust, at
morrice dance, at pilgrimage, at village fes-
tival — there was the friar to be found
preaching in homely and telling fashion.
. . . The true and deep revival of per-
sonal religion all over Europe in the thir-
teenth century is in the main the work of
the friars." So says Wakeman, the Church
historian before quoted; but he is speaking
of the early days of the order.
For they, too, soon lost their unselfish
motives, and the friars became a set of
worthless, tramping, begging vagabonds,
preying upon the decent folk and living in
vicious idleness.
Such were some of the churchmen Chau-
cer satirized.
120
CHAPTER VIII
CHIVALRY THE POET's LIFE AS AN
OFFICIAL
The second great influence of the Mid-
dle Ages, the institution known as Chiv-
alry, had reached its greatest development
somewhat earlier than during Chaucer's
mature years. Under Edward III the ex-
ternal forms yet remained — the knights,
squires, heralds, tournaments, pages — but
their power over the minds of men w^as
lessened. The young man who hoped for
distinction as a soldier began, as we have
seen in Chaucer's case, to serve as page to
a knight or lady, was promoted to be an
esquire, and might then, by the elaborate
religious ceremony so often described, be-
come a knight; or in special cases, as for a
deed of valor on the battlefield, the honor
121
In the Days of Chaucer
might be conferred by the mere "accolade,'*
or sword stroke.
But in a country so highly developed as
England in the reign of King Edward
there were many other avenues to distinc-
tion than the path of chivalry. Great mer-
chants, by trade and commerce, acquired
wealth and social prominence; scholars
gained respect through their learning; and
even some writers attained eminence,
though rather as a matter of popularity
than of respect.
The writer who gave himself, as Chau-
cer did, to pure literature rather than to
some form of sermonizing could hardly be
expected to attain more than an increase of
the kindly regard that was due to the min-
strels or other entertainers.
Poetry had its place in chivalry, for it
was cultivated together with music as part
of the equipment of accomplished knight-
hood. The minstrel who sang the exploits
of knights, modern or ancient, was a w^el-
122
Chivalry — Official Life
come guest in the feudal castles. The story
of the rescue of King Richard by the min-
strel Blondel, even if not historical, shows
the relation of the minstrel to those who
held the highest ranks.
But as chivalry began in connection with
warfare, so its rules and customs were
always based upon military life, and the
training of page, esquire, and knight looked
to distinction in arms. The Church, per-
vading all mediaeval life, strove to count
chivalry an ally of religion, and gave rules
to the knights, making their romantic code
a Christian code as well.
Even on the battlefield the rules of chiv-
alry were not disregarded, and a code of
honor forbade cruelty or treachery to those
who were within its provisions. For it
must not be forgotten that the rules were
primarily to govern the relation of knights
to one another. A knight was bound to
keep his plighted word on pain of losing
the privileges of his rank. If set free on
123
In the Days of Chaucer
parole, he must loyally redeem himself by
paying his ransom or returning to captiv-.
ity. An instance of this was seen in the
return to England of John, King of
France, when his nation had refused to
pay the ransom demanded by Edward III.
It is impossible and unnecessary to give
here a full account of even the main feat-
ures of the institution of chivalry; but the
reader of Chaucer must understand that it
was still a living force during his lifetime^
and that it was a large factor in the sub-
jects chosen by the poet. Among his poems
chivalry is a chief element in "The Ro-
mance of the Rose," "Troilus and Cri-
seyde," many of the "Canterbury Tales,"
and to knighthood, the tournament, and
the four ideals of chivalry — "valor, loy*
alty, courtesy, and munificence" — there are
references everywhere.
Of the effect wrought upon the social
life by chivalry there are widely differing
opinions. The sentiments of Edmund
124
Chivalry — Official Life
Burke, It has been pointed out, are at abso-
lute variance with Edward Freeman's ver-
dict. Burke says: "Never, never more
shall we behold that generous loyalty to
rank and sex, that proud submission, that
dignified obedience, that subordination of
the heart which kept alive, even In servi-
tude Itself, the spirit of an exalted free-
dom"; and he speaks also of "that sensi-
bility of principle, that chastity of honor
which felt a stain like a wound, which
inspired courage while it mitigated ferocity,
which ennobled whatever it touched, and
under which vice itself lost half Its evil by
losing all its grossness."
Now let us hear the view of Edward
Freeman :
"The chivalrous spirit Is above all a
class spirit. The good knight Is bound to
endless fantastic courtesies toward men,
and still more toward women of a certain
rank; he may treat all below that rank
with any degree of scorn and cruelty. The
125
In the Days of Chaucer
spirit of chivalry implies the arbitrary-
choice of one or two virtues, to be prac-
tised in such an exaggerated degree as to
become vices, while the ordinary laws of
right and wrong are forgotten. The false
code of honor supplants the laws of the
commonwealth, the law of God, and the
eternal principles of right."
The clear-minded Chaucer saw both the
good and the evil in the institutions of his
time; and, by means of setting before us
the good churchman and the bad, the noble
knight and the unchivalrous soldier, he
shows the strength and the weakness of
both systems. Chaucer is thus more mod-
ern in spirit than Edmund Spenser; for
Spenser's "Faerie Queene" is a resurrection
of a state of things that had long passed,
while Chaucer, though writing during the
life of chivalry, sees the knight as he really
is, and finds him purely human rather than
the imagined ideal which Spenser paints
for us.
126
Chivalry — Official Life
Chaucer's attitude may have come from
the fact that while he saw both the Church
and chivalry, he was identified with neither.
Chaucer was a London business-man dur-
ing the greater part of his maturity. We
have seen him employed about such prosaic
matters as leather and hides, and dealing
daily with merchants, sailors, and govern-
ment officials. Amid these occupations he
remained, for the appointment as Comp-
troller of the Petty Customs in 1382 was
rather a promotion than a change of em-
ployment. Even the trips abroad, from
his thirtieth to his thirty-eighth year, were
all practical in their nature; and when
these ceased he remained in London en-
gaged in civil duties. Thus, in 1389, we
find him appointed Clerk" of Works, and
in 1390 he has charge, with others, of re-
pairing the roadways along the banks of
the Thames ; in the same year he is named
as one of two Foresters to North Pether-
ton Park, in Somersetshire, and becomes
127
In the Days of Chaucer
sole Forester in 1398 — an office held by
Thomas Chaucer under Henry V in 141 7,
which may strengthen the belief that this
Thomas was Geoffrey's son.
If we add to these few particulars the
facts that Chaucer had charge of the ar-
rangements for a grand tournament held at
Smithfield in 1390, being allowed his
charges in erecting scaffolds; and that in
1386 he was a member of Parliament, we
shall have recorded all that is known of
his life as an official.
Of his personal adventures there is an
interesting record. We find that during
1390 the Clerk of the Works, Geoffrey
Chaucer, was twice set upon by highway
robbers — "an adventure,'' says Professor
Lounsbury^ "which entered so frequently
into the experience of our ancestors that
without at least one of them the life of a
man of position could hardly have been
deemed complete." Both robberies oc-
curred on the same day, September 6th,
128
Chivalry — Official Life
once at Westminster and once at Hatcham,
''near the foul oak." Chaucer lost nearly
£20 of public funds, besides his horse and
other things; but he seems to have been
held blameless, for he was not required to
repay the money. When this could hap-
pen so near London we may Imagine the
dangers besetting travellers In the open
country, and understand the necessity for
an armed escort to men worth pillaging.
Among other documents referring to
Chaucer's life In London one recently came
to light showing that a certain Cecilia
Chaumpagne, In 1380, signed a bond of re-
lease promising not to prosecute him for
carrying her off. Professor Lounsbury
points out that for any criminal act this
release could not have been legal, and re-
minds us that It was not uncommon, not
only then but for many years later, to carry
off heiresses In order to marry them. Pro-
fessor Lounsbury believes, therefore, that
Chaucer was merely the accessory to an
129
In the Days of Chaucer
attempted elopement; and this seems to
be justified by the fact that Chaucer was
never held in higher estimation than in
the years immediately succeeding this oc-
currence.
It would be convenient to defer the men-
tion of these happenings until they could
be brought out one by one in connection
with the poet's literary life. But, unfortu-
nately, the dates of his writings cannot be
fixed with sufficient certainty to tell Chau-
cer's whole life in a single direct narrative.
Some of his poems were in his hands for
several years, and so it is easier to treat the
events of his life separately and then to
refer back to them when speaking of the
composition of the poems.
We shall therefore try in this chapter to
note briefly the main happenings that took
place during the rest of the poet's life, and
shall then take up his works and the topics
suggested more directly by them, including
in the later chapters such events as belong
130
Chivalry — Official Life
more especially to the Influences affecting
his writings.
Chaucer's business life In London, from
1374 to 1400, covered the period of the
death of Edward III, the whole reign of
Richard II, and two years of the reign of
Henry IV. The Black Prince died in 1376,
Edward III In 1377, and Richard came
to the throne In the same year. Richard's
reign was anything but a glorious time for
England. The French and Spaniards were
supreme at sea, and often attacked the
English coasts — they Invaded the Isle of
Wight and burned Hastings, Poole, Ports-
mouth, and other towns, being only now
and then repulsed by the people under some
brave nobleman or churchman. Even the
clergy were armed, and fought bravely.
The Scots also sent vessels against Eng-
land, and found no resistance until a brave
London merchant named Philpot raised a
force, defeated them, and for his reward
was rebuked by the government!
131
In the Days of Chaucer
Money was needed, and a heavy poll-
tax was Imposed. This the commoners re-
sisted, and then came Wat Tyler's rebel-
lion — about which you may read in Mor-
ris's stirring story, "A Dream of John
Ball." This John Ball was a priest, whom
Froissart calls "mad"; but Green, the his
torian, says of him : " ^Mad,' as the land
owners held him to be, it was in the preach
ing of John Ball that England first listened
to a declaration of the natural equality and
rights of man. ... A spirit fatal to
the whole system of the Middle Ages
breathed In the popular rhyme which con
densed the levelling doctrine of John Ball :
** « When Adam delved and Eve span
Who was then the gentleman ? ' "
But while Jack Straw, Wat Tyler, and
their fellows were, with axes and staves
and long bows, trying to conquer their
rights, the rights preached to them by this
"mad priest" — while Wycliffe was making
In every way his protest against the corrup-
132
Chivalry — Official Life
tlons and the errors of the Church, send-
ing out his ''poor preachers," translating
the Bible, writing his arguments — Chaucer
was, it may be unconsciously, doing work
even more effective against the same abuses.
Chaucer's poems, considered as agencies
in the reform of Church and State, have
been compared to an acid that slowly,
almost imperceptibly, destroys what it at-
tacks. His satire was not fierce; he wrote
in good humor, and with a kindly tolerance
that hardly awakened resentment in those
classes whose failings he held up to ridicule.
But what he said was remembered, and it
remained in the minds of his readers gently
to convince.
Whether or not Cervantes smiled chiv-
alry away, the types created by Chaucer
brought to all a realization of the failings
in the classes he so truthfully depicted; and
the same forces that were aroused against
the more violent reformers were powerless
against the pen of the poet.
133
In the Days of Chaucer
In 1396 occurred the rejoicings over
the marriage of Richard II to the little
princess of France, who, at eight years old,
had replied to the king's ambassadors: "If
it please God, and my lord and father, that
I shall be Queen of England, I shall be
well pleased thereat: for I have been told
that I shall then be a great lady."
So Froissart records. And later he tells
of the marriage in the Church of St. Nicho-
las at Calais on All Saints' Day, of the
great feasting that follow^ed, the voyage
to Dover in three hours, of the reception
of the little queen into London, her stay
at the Tower, the pomps and ceremonies
that attended her through the streets of
London, and her reception at Westminster.
Then there was a great tournament held
at Smithfield between forty knights and
squires in the February following, of which
notice was sent by heralds to Scotland and
beyond the sea. For this tournament
Chaucer prepared the lists.
134
Chivalry — Official Life
And Strutt, writing of ''English Sports
and Pastimes," relates that during merry-
makings the apprentices of London danced
before their masters' doors, and he notes
that after Richard's coronation dinner the
lords and ladies gave the rest of the even-
ing to dancing; and we may be sure that
on the occasion of the wedding London
was in gala dress for several days at least.
Chaucer, being forty-two, is more likely to
have been merely a spectator than active in
the spectacles and sports; but so brilliant
were the costumes and so rich the display
of color and lights that his artistic sense
must have been delighted.
In or about 1385 it is believed that the
poet gave up his home over Aldgate and
took a residence at Greenwich, where he
lived until 1399, fourteen years; in the
year before his death he leased a house at
Westminster, upon the site now occupied
by Henry VII's chapel, and there re-
mained until his death, October 25, 1400
135
In the Days of Chaucer
— the date once recorded on his tombstone
in the Abbey. At the time of Dryden's
burial it is said that this tombstone was cut
in two to mend the pavement; and if this
be so one is tempted to inquire whether it
would not be worth while to seek for the
pieces and have them carefully examined
in the hope of finding some helpful dates or
particulars.
Two years before Chaucer's death is set
the beginning of the happenings in Shake-
speare's "Richard II," and the play ends
not long after the end of Chaucer's life;
so in reading it we see a picture of Chau-
cer's times as drawn by Shakespeare.
In considering the writing of the poems
mention will be made of those intervals of
office-holding and reversals of fortune that
had direct influence upon the work of the
poet, for to note them here would make
repetition necessary.
The essential thing to remember about
Chaucer's life in the government service is
136
Chivalry — Official Life
that, beginning in 1370, at about the age of
thirty, he remained almost uninterruptedly
at work In the city of London, except for a
few foreign journeys. What was Impor-
tant to the citizens of London was im-
portant to him; what they saw and knew,
he may have seen or known. His love of
nature — of which he gives ample proof —
was that of a city business-man with only
brief time to give to the outdoor world.
This was In some ways an advantage to
him. His outings were during the milder
seasons. He knew little, apparently, of
what winter meant to the mediaeval peas-
ant — the scant food, the freezing, bitter
cold, the difficulty of keeping alive the farm
animals, the gloomy darkness of their huts,
the filth of life In-doors, the impossibility
of cleanliness. Of this life wrote Lang-
land, but to Chaucer it remained remote.
The personal life of Chaucer Is mainly
Inference, but the poet we may know as
Intimately as we will.
137
CHAPTER IX
WHAT CHAUCER READ AND WHAT HE
KNEW
Considering how long Chaucer held
offices in the public service it might be
thought there would be plenty of docu-
ments existing in his handwriting. But
careful search has failed to bring any to
light, though it will be remembered that
by the terms of his appointment he was
required to keep the records in his own
writing. "Someone who knew the records
thoroughly," writes a correspondent to the
London Athenaiim, "has systematically
picked out all Chaucer's work," and it is,
every scrap, missing. When, how, or why
this was done no one knows.
It is hoped that, instead of being stolen,
the records have been put away among the
138
His Reading and Knor^ledge
mass of papers belonging to the English
government; and, if so, they may at a
later day come to light. At all events,
there is a pleasant sense of mystery in their
disappearance. Perhaps some admirer of
the poet wished to preserve every particle
of his handwriting; perhaps, with a thou-
sand other valuable mementos, they may
have been destroyed in the great fire of
London. We must console ourselves for
the loss of facts by the pleasure to be found
in trying to solve the problems of the poet's
life and works.
For there are puzzles to be solved in re-
gard to the writings as well as in the
biography. We have no sure test to deter-
mine what is Chaucer's and what is not, as
will be learned by any who will read the
great number of books setting forth the
views of this scholar and that critic upon
disputed pieces.
Objection is sometimes made to using
the imagination in filling the gaps in our
139
In the Days of Chaucer
knowledge of Chaucer and his life, but it
is either that or nothing. The certainties
about the poet could be compressed into a
single printed page if we confine ourselves
to the facts concerning him directly.
But as to his times, there are undoubted
records enough. We know what writers
existed before him or with him, and we
have specimens of their work by which to
judge of them. There were men who put
the Scriptures into metrical form — such as
Richard Rolle ; others, already referred to,
who enlivened historical chronicles by poet-
ical touches ; and there w^ere satirical poets,
like Langland.. The beginning of "The
Vision of Piers Plowman" will show the
alliterative form used by Langland, and
will indicate how different was the con-
struction of Chaucer's rhyming verse; in-
deed, the men belonged to different schools
of verse :
" In a summer season
When soft was the sun,
140
His Reading and Knowledge
I shoop me into shrouds
As I a sheep were;
In habit as a hermit
Unholy of werkes.
Went wide into the world
Wonders to hear;
Ac on a May morwening
On Malvern hills.
Me befel a ferly
Of fairy, me thought."
This extract will serve to show that
Chaucer had not adopted English fashions
in his verse-making. Chaucer, as Lowell
points out, began as imitator and transla-
tor, and invented little. The American
critic gives four principal sources from
which the Englishman drew — the Latins,
the Troubadours, the Trouveres, and the
Italians. By the Latins is meant such as
Ovid and Virgil, with whom Chaucer was
well acquainted, a few others being now
and then mentioned, and among prose-
writers Boethius, whose ''Consolations of
141
In the Days of Chaucer
Philosophy" he translated, and Seneca.
Chaucer's scholarship was rather that of a
general reader than that of a deep student,
and he makes blunders now and then In
recalling the work of classic writers.
The Troubadours, the singers of ro-
mantic love-poetry, were of the south of
France, and their verse w^as cast In artificial
forms; the Trouveres, the poets of the
more northern regions of France, were put-
ting their own times into verse, giving
"voice to real and not merely conventional
emotions."
The characters of these two schools of
French poetry, both of which strongly In-
fluenced Chaucer, are well discussed by
Lowell in his essay on "Chaucer," where
he asserts that It was through the Nor-
mans that "the English mind and fancy,
hitherto uncouth, were first infused with
the lightness, grace, and self-confidence of
Romance literature." And It Is hardly too
much to say that Chaucer opened the chan-
142
His Reading and Knowledge
nel that brought this new Influence Into
English literature.
The Italian Influence on Chaucer was
mainly that of Dante, Petrarch, and Boc-
caccio. What Dante was, a thousand
books have told and are still telling. Yet
It can hardly be better said than In Lowell's
words: "With Dante, life represented the
passage of the soul from a state of nature
to a state of grace; and there would have
been almost an even chance whether (as
Burns says) the Divina Commedia had
turned out a song or a sermon but for the
wonderful genius of Its author, which has
compelled the sermon to sing and the song
to preach." And then Lowell draws a
parallel and contrast between Dante and
the English poet, showing that with Chau-
cer all morals are Incidental — the main
thing being the pictures of life and of
character.
From Boccaccio Chaucer helped himself
freely, more freely than from any other
143
In the Days of Chaucer
poet. The ''Knight's Tale" in the "Can-
terbury Tales" is based upon a poem of
Boccaccio's; so is "Troilus and Criseyde,"
while others of Chaucer's poems contain
references to passages and translations of
the work of the Italian, and still further
indebtedness is asserted.
From Petrarch Chaucer derived the
story of Griselda, and a part of the
"Monk's Tale" ; and Professor Lounsbury
argues that, since Chaucer never mentions
Boccaccio by name, and ascribes some of
that Italian's writing to Petrarch and an-
other, Lollius, it may have been that Chau-
cer knew Boccaccio's poems without know-
ing the author's name — a thing quite pos-
sible in those days of manuscript circulation
— and believed Petrarch to be their author.
Other critics believe that Chaucer while in
Italy, in 1373, visited Florence and there
met Boccaccio. For in that very year a
chair or professorship for the study of
Dante had been established in the Univer-
144
His Reading and Knowledge
sity of Florence, and Boccaccio received
the appointment, being then an old man of
sixty.
As for Dante, he died before the birth
of Chaucer, and that Chaucer knew and
admired his works is known by many men-
tions of this greatest Italian; while Lyd-
gate, a successor and follower of Chaucer,
asserts that Chaucer wrote "Dante In Eng-
lish." How much Influence Dante exerted
upon the works of the English poet is dis-
puted, but we may rest satisfied with the
knowledge that there was considerable In-
debtedness in matters of style and treat-
ment.
The reader of "Chaucer" will find
throughout references to events and per-
sonages of the siege of Troy, and some
note of the exploits of Alexander the
Great, of Charlemagne, and of Arthur
and his knights. These subjects were pop-
ular in the Middle Ages, and were widely
known through long-winded romances.
145
In the Days of Chaucer
The Trojan heroes and their brave deeds
were favorite topics with Chaucer, prob-
ably because he knew they would be wel-
come to his hearers.
Even those authorities already men-
tioned will show that the English poet was
well read in the literature of his time ; and
in addition to them might be named a small
library of books and authors much less
known to us. It would serve no purpose
to copy here the list that students have
drawn up. It can be found in special ar-
ticles on the sources of Chaucer's works;
but we are convinced by the mere array of
names that wherever an unusual book was
to be found the English poet dipped
eagerly into it, while with the books all
knew — such as the Bible — Chaucer showed
the fullest famiharity. He was, if not a
close student, a thoroughly well-read and
well-equipped man.
While loving literature, Chaucer was
alive to all the science of his period, and
146
His Reading and Knowledge
convinces us that he had an Intelligent In-
terest In all that went on about him.
Besides his treatise on the astrolabe, which
he Illustrated with drawings for the benefit
of his little son, he shows otherwise an
acquaintance with astronomy and astrol-
ogy, Introduces an alchemist Into the "Can-
terbury Tales," giving full particulars of
his magic art, and here and there In his
poems shows by a shrewd remark that he
was no Inattentive listener to the theories
of men of science and scholars.
Thus, In one place he speaks of the
earth as "This wide world which that men
say is round"; and though he puts the
speech Into the mouth of the Franklin, yet
It Is spoken not as questionable but as a
matter of course; and this was more than
a century before the days of Columbus.
Possibly the word is used for circular, for
the maps of the time show the world In
this shape, with Jerusalem In the centre,
and a neat ocean fitting smoothly and
147
In the Days of Chaucer
evenly around the circumference. The
Mediterranean ran exactly across the mid-
dle, with a part extending downward.
Make a round O and a T inside of it and
you will have the mediaeval idea of the
map of the world. In another poem there
is a discussion of how the sound-waves go
through the air ; in others we have natural
history topics and the study of mathemat-
ics, spoken of with ease and familiarity.
Altogether, Chaucer's knowledge of the
science of his times was creditable, and
goes well with our general Impression of
his attainments. He makes no pretence to
scholarship or deep learning, and speaks
of scientific doctrines in the tone of a man
of the world, a general reader; yet, like
Shakespeare, Chaucer seems to have read
with intelligence and interest whatever
came In his way, and to have retained with
fair accuracy the results of his reading.
The reign of Edward III has by many
authorities been considered one of Eng-
148
His Reading and Knowledge
land's great periods, and in the pages of
history the mighty expeditions of Edward
to France, the battles of Crecy and Poi-
tiers, the taking of Calais, the heroism of
the Black Prince, the captivity of King
John of France, take up much space and
afford historians many a chance for sound-
ing words ; and yet, now we can look back
to those times after five centuries, we know
that there was more of England's future
depending upon the quiet, thoughtful,
kindly citizen, Geoffrey Chaucer, than
upon all Edward's exploits.
While Edward and his son were warring
against the neighbor kingdom to retain
what was not worth keeping, and what
was. In spite of their brave deeds, to be
Irrevocably lost, Chaucer was bringing to
England a treasure destined to be eternal.
For the English poet brought from France
and from Italy the seeds of a great litera-
ture. He learned the essential principles
of the art that was to give us Shakespeare,
149
In the Days of Chaucer
Spenser, Milton, Tennyson — the creators
of the only wealth we all share, and shall
share so long as it has any value to us and
our descendants.
And this is nothing but a plain state-
ment of fact. Art is not a matter of in-
dividual creation. Without his masters
and his forerunners no poet, no artist can
exist. Literature is a growth, a vast struct-
ure in whose making all writers have a
hand. If the ancient writers seem to stand
alone, it is only because the history of their
times is unknown. Before Homer and
Dante and Chaucer there were countless
busy men, without whom the great poets
could not have been what they became.
And as one generation of writers pass away
they leave behind them that which will,
soon or late, produce the work of their
successors.
Chaucer was so placed and so consti-
tuted that he became the chief means of
bringing into England the charms of the
150
His Reading and Knowledge
poesy of France and of Italy; and none of
Edward's conquests meant so much to Eng-
lishmen and to Americans as Chaucer's vic-
tories in the peaceful fields of literature.
There has been much discussion over
the questions whether the English poet
ever had a personal meeting with Petrarch
or with Boccaccio; but, after all, these
questions are of minor importance. What
does concern us is not at all doubtful. We
know that Chaucer read and appreciated
and learned to value the poems of the
great Italian writers; that from them he
taught himself to know good poetry, and
to write good poetry in the English tongue
— in that dialect of his own and of the
English court which w^as to be the speech
of millions throughout the globe.
We have seen from the events of his
life what manner of man he was. We
have seen that he escaped the influences
that might have narrowed him, and might
have cramped his verse into a form and
151
In the Days of Chaucer
mold that would have confined it to his
own times. He was not a poet of the
church, caring only to teach ; not a poet of
the chivalry that had already passed its
prime ; not merely a reformer, to make his
verse a political weapon; but he was a
broad-minded, unprejudiced gentleman of
England, with sympathy for all the men
and women who in their various ways
found their lives worth living.
Chaucer loved books, as he confesses,
but he did not shut his eyes to the world
around him. He found virtue worthy of
his praise, but he could not prevent a hu-
man sympathy for the sinner. He exposed
fraud and trickery, but it was with a smile
rather than with bitter upbraiding.
In learning the skill of the Italians,
Chaucer did not forget the natural kind-
liness of the French, and to both he added
a quality that either was or has become
especially English — the quality of common-
sense, or simplicity. He has no false dig-
152
His Reading and Knowledge
nity,- no such conceit as renders him unap-
proachable. He wins the affection of his
readers; and this it is that has caused his
work to be cherished and has In the cen-
turies since his death assured him always
those friends who keep his memory green
and his verse alive. Happy is the poet
whose readers love him, for this is what
gives immortality, even to those of lesser
rank.
This personal affection takes various
forms. Toward Homer, Dante, Shake-
speare, there is a reverence which prevents
perfect affection; but Horace, Chaucer,
Herrick, Scott, invite Intimacy by their
kindliness, and we come nearer to them.
Chaucer's broad, human spirit saved
him also from becoming only an English
reflection of those foreign masters whom
he admired. He found good In Dante, in
Boccaccio, in the Troubadours, in the
Trouveres; but he was narrowed by none.
Dante's solemnity, Boccaccio's lightness of
153
In the Days of Chaucer
touch, the Troubadours' artificiality, the
Trouveres' ruggedness, he seems to have
found not wholly to his taste, for while he
used suggestions derived from each he
adopted none of his models as sole and in-
fallible guide.
Even where he is writing in some set
style Chaucer is apt now and then to show
his impatience of it. He will pause in the
middle of a long story to inform the reader
that it is tiresome, and he wishes it were
done.
In short, Chaucer has humor. He finds
it impossible to be stiff and to keep up a
pose, as a man without humor so readily
can do. His humor seems to us very mod-
ern, perhaps because so little of ancient
humor found its way into literature. There
are few things more delicious than the in-
terrupting of certain stories in the "Can-
terbury Tales," because they are stupid; as
where Chaucer himself is interrupted by
*'Mine Host," because his "Tale of Sir
154
His Reading and Knowledge
Thopas" is unbearably slow, whereupon
the tale remains Intentionally a fragment.
Chaucer's attitude toward the men of
his time, so far as It is revealed by his
poems, Is that of an observer rather than
a partisan or hero-worshipper. The por-
traits he has drawn were m.ade with so
much fairness that they never aroused re-
sentment. The types he has described
were strongly characterized, but were never
unfairly caricatured; and therefore his
works have never been considered unfair
presentations. This has helped to make
them popular, and thereby increased their
Influence.
And here again we may sum up our con-
clusion by saying that Chaucer was a man
of letters rather than satirist, reformer, or
moralist.
^SS
CHAPTER X
HIS WRITINGS, AND WHAT THEY CONTAIN
There is no such exactness in tlje dates
of Chaucer's various works that we may
give to each a definite place in his life. A
few poems are in celebration of certain
events, or contain passages that seem to
Hx their time ; but in regard to most we can
only put them generally into three great
periods, as has been done by the German
scholar, Ten Brink, who divides the poet's
work into classes according to the influences
under which the poems were composed.
The first class is called that of French
influence, and extends from his earliest
work to the time of his sojourn in Italy in
1373. The second, that of Italian influ-
ence, extends to about 1389, or the poet's
fiftieth year. The third, the period of full
156
His Writings
maturity, covers the eleven years remain-
ing.
These divisions are, of course, merely
helps to the student, and do not Indicate a
complete change in style at the dates given.
It Is true, however, that taken broadly the
poet's work shows three great varieties, and
these we may study separately.
In the first period we find Chaucer try-
ing his powers as a young writer by trans-
lating and imitating the works of those
who were most admired. Much of his
work of this time Is thought to be lost,
since writers of his owm day speak of a
great number of poems written In the
artificial style of the French, and we know
of very few. There is, however, one long
poem of the time preserved.
This is the "Romance of the Rose,"
which Chaucer translated from the French,
and of which we have a considerable part.
If we may trust those who have most care-
fully studied the question. The original
157
In the Days of Chaucer
was an allegory, introducing such charac-
ters as Avarice, Sorrow, Idleness, who aid
or oppose the hero, "Lover," in his at-
tempt to reach the enchanted rose. The
"Pilgrim's Progress" is to the religious life
what these allegories were to the romantic,
and to us retains an interest these have lost.
The romance begins by telling of a
poet's dream, wherein he sees a beauti-
ful garden, enclosed about with a wall,
whereon are emblematic pictures of per-
sonified qualities, which paintings are de-
scribed in full. To the garden the poet is
admitted by "Ydelnesse," and meets with
"Sir Mirthe," "Curtesye," and other char-
acters, and the poem is made up mainly of
long discourses that to modern readers are
Insufferably dull and meaningless.
It is hard for us to understand how any-
one ever had patience to listen to the more
than twenty thousand lines of the French
original. Even in Chaucer's translation
there is hardly enough wheat to reward
158
His Writings
one for seeking through the chaff. There
Is no reason why anyone but a student of
Chaucer should trouble to read more than
selected extracts of the tedious "Romance
of the Rose." Some of the descriptions of
the paintings on the wall contain touches^
to repay the reader, and a few of these will
convince one whether he cares to read more
of the translation — the chances being that,
without special purpose, the reader will
not care to go far.
The poem known as "Chaucer's A.
B. C." has a musical beauty that will make
It delightful to the reader. It Is a free
translation or paraphrase of the work of
a Cistercian monk, of whom Professor
Lounsbury says: "Once in about every
score of years he is regularly discovered as
the source from which Bunyan derived his
far more famous production"; for this
monk wrote a "Pilgrimage of the Soul,"
not unlike, in idea, Bunyan's allegory. This
pilgrimage was in three parts, and from
159
In the Days of Chaucer
one of them Is taken "Chaucer's A. B. C,"
or "Prayer to the Virgin Mary," each
stanza beginning regularly with the letters
of the alphabet.
Besides this little device, the form of
rhyming is noticeable. It Is French In
form, and the same he used In the "Monk's
Tale" and several other pieces. The poem
is considered one of his finest short pieces
— being musical, elevated in style, pure In
sentiment. But It is hardly long enough
for the reader to see the poet at his best.
The "Book of the Duchess" Is written
in memory of Blanche, wife of John of
Gaunt (meaning Ghent). Her death was
in 1369, and so the poem is supposed to
be nearly of that date. It is often printed
under the title "The Dream of Chaucer"
or "The Death of Blanche"; but the first
of these names must not be confused with
"Chaucer's Dream," a poem by another
hand, but sometimes ascribed to Chaucer
in early editions of his works. Like the
160
His Writings
"Romance of the Rose," this also Is told
in the form of a dream. The poet meets
a dog, and Is led to a knight clad In black
(one of the earliest Instances of black worn
as mourning), who tells the sorrowful
story of the loss of his beloved wife, and
devotes himself to her praise.
In the "Book of the Duchess" the reader
will find proof of Chaucer's power. The
beginning tells the tale of "Seys and
Alcyone," which the poet was reading In
order to put himself to sleep ; and the story
concluding with a deep sleep, wherein Al-
cyone sees a vision of her husband, the
poet most humorously offers a bribe to
Morpheus, the god of sleep, for as deep
a slumber — the bribe being a "feather-bed
of down from white doves" and the rich-
est bed-clothing, besides a promise of gild-
ing his bed-room and hanging It with
tapestry ! The bribe seems effective, for the
desired sleep follows, and therein occurs
the dream which Is the subject of the poem.
i6i
In the Days of Chaucer
Modern readers will find most pleasure
in Chaucer's picture of the May morning
as the dreamer imagined it — a brightly
painted little miniature, rich in color and
in tone, with its bird-songs ; its stained-glass
windows, showing Hector, Priam, Paris,
Helen, and Lavinia; the sunbeams glan-
cing through; the clear, cloudless, blue
sky, and the morning air "neither cold nor
hot." Then comes a hunting-scene, blow-
ing horns, eager hounds, and galloping
horsemen, from which the "whelp that
fawned me as I stood" leads the poet to
the bereaved knight.
The knight's tribute to the lost one is
natural and beautiful, and though there
are here and there bits of pedantry and
tricks of the French school, there is
throughout a wholesome tenderness of
tone, a graphic painting of an English
woman of the best sort, and an ease of
style that will ever attract readers.
Some critics have objected that the poem
162
His Writings
is awkwardly ended; but it seems to me
that the abrupt ending after the words
"She is dead!" rs masterly. An inferior
poet would have dragged on to a weak
and nerveless ending, forgetting Hamlet's
thought — "The rest is silence." Truly,
after the knight's words there can be noth-
ing said; and that Chaucer wisely closes
with the few necessary lines that end his
dream is enough to prove that he already
had in him the essential qualities of a great
poet.
The story of "Seys and Alcyone" is re-
ferred to in the introduction to the pro-
logue to the "Man of Law's Tale" ("Can-
terbury Tales") as written in the poet's
youth; so the version of it included in "The
Book of the Duchess" may be a rewriting
of an earlier complete form, since Chaucer
was certainly nearly thirty at the time of
the death of Blanche.
To this same period, that of French In-
fluence, are assigned two other poems that
163
In the Days of Chaucer
seem to have been included later among the
"Canterbury Tales"— the "Life of St. Ce-
cilia" and parts of the "Monk's Tale," so
they need not be here mentioned further.
After the sojourn in Italy critics find
some changes in style. To this period be-
long "The Complaint of Mars," "Troilus
and Criseyde," the translation of "Boethi-
us" in prose, "The Parliament of Fowls,"
and "The House of Fame," and certain
minor pieces. Besides the change in style,
there is direct taking of plots and incidents,
chiefly from Boccaccio or from Petrarch's
Latin versions of Boccaccio's stories. Like
Shakespeare, Chaucer had no scruple in
taking material that suited his purposes,
and in making use of it as he chose. But
in using the aid of the Italians, the im-
portant matter is that Chaucer felt the
grace and ease of their verse, and in mak-
ing his English poems upon the same
themes sought and won some of the Italian
music, though he rightly complains that
164
His Writings
English does not lend itself so easily to
rhyme and metre as does Italian. The sub-
jects themselves are not especially pleasing
to us. As Chaucer grew in power he aban-
doned the conventional stories of heathen
gods and goddesses; but at this time my-
thology, classic lore, and allegory^ make
much of his work very stupid reading to
us who care so much less for all these
things.
*'The Complaint of Mars," for example,
is tiresome, short as it is; "The Parliament
of Fowls" is full of delightful passages, so
different from "The Complaint of Mars"
that it is hard to believe the same hand
wrote both. The Fowls are choosing their
mates on St. Valentine's Day, in the pres-
ence of the goddess Nature, when a rivalry
arises among three eagles who have chosen
the same mate. After various birds — the
goose, the cuckoo, the dove — have given
their opinions in characteristic ways. Na-
ture decides that the decision shall rest with
165
In the Days of Chaucer
the eagle they all have chosen, and she
postpones her decision for a year.
This plot is slight enough, but it is sup-
posed to be an allegory of the courtship of
Anne of Bohemia by Richard II and two
rivals, and therefore to have been com-
posed about 138 1 — the year of Tyler's
rebellion.
From the absurdity of the speeches made
by some of the birds called upon for opin-
ions, we may suspect that one purpose of
the poem was to poke fun at some of those
who favored the marriage of Anne to the
foreign noblemen; but the ending of the
story in a year's delay would suggest that a
sequel was intended. To modern readers
the plot matters little; the charm of the
piece lies in the treatment, for which the
poem is well worth reading.
The long and dull translation of "Boe-
thius on the Consolation of Philosophy" is
not likely to attract modern readers, though
his work was deservedly popular before
166
His Writings
and after Chaucer's times. Gibbon speaks
of Boethlus as "the last of the Romans
whom Cato or Cicero could have acknowl-
edged as their countryman." Born about
475 A.D., a Roman of high birth, he was
at first prosperous and prominent, being a
consul and seeing both his sons in the same
office ; but later he was Imprisoned, lost his
property, and was put to death. His "Con-
solations" were written In prison.
To the Middle Ages Boethius was both
martyr and philosopher, and was long
revered as teacher and authority In many
branches of learning. But excellent as his
work was and Is, it Is not likely to be read
by modern readers — to whom the long
treatises that delighted our ancestors are a
mental weariness.
The translation, made by Chaucer from
about his thirty-eighth to his forty-first
year, marks the beginning of more serious
writings by the English poet, such as
"Trollus and Criseyde," "The House of
167
In the Days of Chaucer
Fame/' "The Legend of Good Women,"
and the "Canterbury Tales" — to name the
longer pieces.
"Troilus and Crlseyde" is based not
upon Homer's story of the Trojan war,
but is, as Ward says in the volume of
"English Men of Letters" that he wrote
on Chaucer, "an English reproduction of a
Latin translation of a French poem,"
though it is not an exact following of any
of these. Boccaccio's poem "Filostrato"
was the chief source, and suggested about
one-third of Chaucer's poem, directly or
indirectly.
To show the difference of critical opin-
ion. Professor Lounsbury quotes Sir Wal-
ter Scott as calling this "a long and some-
what dull poem," while Rossetti declares
It "perhaps the most beautiful narrative
poem of considerable length in the English
language."
Where such doctors differ, the readers
must choose which to follow.
i68
His Writings
Chaucer himself certainly found the
tragic story gloomy, for he inserts near the
end a prayer that before he dies the writer
may ''make some comedy." And with this
aspiration in mind, we find him adopting a
ligliter treatment of his next subject.
"The House of Fame" commences, as
do its predecessors, with a dream. So does
"The Legend of Good Women." This
device seems to have been the regular form
in which to cast poems wherein the unreal
is treated. It is abandoned when Chaucer,
freeing himself from all bonds, awakes to
realities in the "Canterbury Tales."
The dream in "The House of Fame"
takes the poet to a temple of Venus, where
first he reads the story of iEneas and
Dido, and then recounts other tales of false
lovers. Leaving this temple, he is carried
by Jove's eagle to the House of Fame —
the flight through the air being wonder-
fully described — and there entering be-
holds the great men of all time, in their
169
In the Days of Chaucer
classes. Here were musicians, magicians
— the minstrel and the juggler were nearly
allied In Chaucer's mind — heralds, and the
historians, poets, and writers. Among
them are Homer, Virgil, Ovid, Luclan,
Claudian.
Dame Fame is now described as award-
ing reputations good and bad, according to
the motive with which work has been done,
and according to the requests made her.
This whole scene Is most humorously writ-
ten, and richly repays the reader.
From the Temple of Fame the poet goes
to view the "Labyrinth of Daedalus," a
representation of Rumor, or false fame —
In short, the Temple of Gossip, described
as formless, whirling, never-resting. And
then — the fragment ends. The poem re-
mains unfinished. But no reader of Chau-
cer should neglect it.
''The Legend of Good Women" is In-
troduced by a prologue telling of Chaucer's
meeting Vv^th the god of love, who charges
170
His Writings
the poet with disloyalty in having told the
stories of women who were faithless to
their lovers instead of true. Chaucer ob-
tains forgiveness through the Intercession
of Alceste, revered as the type of faithful
wives, and as a penance is told to write of
good women.
This introduction serves to bind to-
gether a number of stories relating the
fates of Cleopatra, Thisbe (our old friend
of "Midsummer-Night's Dream"), Queen
Dido, Lucrece, Ariadne, and others. The
poem was never finished.
The prologue, besides showing that the
whole was to be presented to Queen Anne,
is valuable as containing a list of Chaucer's
more important works up to this time.
Of nineteen stories of "Good Women"
promised, only nine were written, so far as
we know; but In the prologue is the best
of this production. The cause of Its sud-
den ending Is unknown; but since it was
about this time that we find the poet pledg-
171
In the Days of Chaucer
Ing his pensions, it has been supposed that
he was oppressed by poverty. Other causes
have been suggested, such as the death of
his wife, which occurred about this time,
or the beginning of the "Canterbury
Tales." In the prologue to "The Legend
of Good Women" there is mention of two
poems that afterward made part of the
stories told by Canterbury pilgrims — the
knight's tale of "Palamon and Arcite"
and a "Life of St. Cecilia," that was
transferred to the later collection as "The
Second Nun's Tale" ; and these, like "Seys
and Alcyone," may have appeared first as
separate, complete poems. It seems rea-
sonable that a plan so large as that for
the "Canterbury Tales" may well have
caused the poet to give up the writing of
minor poems in which he found less inter-
est ; and since this greatest work was never
finished, the earlier works also remained
incomplete. Then, too, it is not impossible
that there may have been more of his work
172
His Writings
than has come down to us. The first col-
lected edition of his poems did not appear
until 1532, and there was a century at least
during which much of his work may have
been lost.
The poems mentioned in this chapter are
of admitted authenticity, and the omission
of "The Court of Love," "The Flower
and the Leaf," "The Cuckoo and the
Nightingale," and "Chaucer's Dream" is
due to their exclusion from his works by
critics of the highest rank. There can be
no objection to reading them, so long as it
is remembered that they probably are not
his.
Of important poems there remain only
the "Canterbury Tales."
As these are by far the most interesting
to us they deserve more space, especially
since they enable us to see the times of
Chaucer more intimately than any other
agency can do. As has been pointed out,
the poems already spoken of do not at-
173
In the Days of Chaucer
tempt to picture the times directly, and they
are more or less affected by the inclusion of
unrealities, or by the models upon which
they were formed.
But in the "Canterbury Tales" the plan
permitted more freedom and more range,
and it will therefore give us the best idea
of Chaucer's times to note the features of
the pictures the poet has therein drawn
for us.
"Chaucer," wrote Lowell, "is the first
who broke away from the dreary tra-
ditional style, and gave not merely stories
but lively pictures of real life as the ever-
renewed substance of poetry."
It is in the "Canterbury Tales" that we
shall find a gallery of these pictures — the
life of his times and the life of all times.
174
id >
DC c
< s
r \ 3
^ E
CHAPTER XI
"the canterbury tales"
One passes, in coming from his earlier
poems to the famous pilgrimage, out of an
old museum Into the freshness and light of
a crisp spring morning.) The first lines of
the Prologue affect one as does the dawn ,
of day in early spring J Chaucer must have ^
written them on some April or May morn-
ing such as he is so fond of describing.
No doubt it was the minstrels' fashion
to sing of the springtide, but even in fol-
lowing the mode set by other poets Chau-
cer gives one a sense of reahty and truth
that they lack. Edmund C. Stedman says:
^'Chaucer for the most part tells old tales
with a new and English beauty," and is
*'like a child that roams afield in May."
But while the stories told by the pilgrims
175
In the Days of Chaucer
to Canterbury are retellings of old tales,
the framework of the whole poem is new.
Since poetry was first put together various
devices have been Invented to bind its flow-
ers into a single posy, and that chosen by
Chaucer Is one of the most pleasing. '
Boccaccio sends his story-tellers Into a
retired garden far from a plague-stricken
city, and though he surrounds them with
wholesome natural objects, the reader who
can forget the miseries of the deserted city
is fortunate. In the "Arabian Nights" the
charming stories of Scheherazade are de-
vices to save a loved sister from the execu-
tioner. But Chaucer brings his personages
together on a spring day, shows them bent
upon a pious mission, and yet one Involving
pleasant picnicking, conducts them gaily
through a beautiful country, and lets no
suggestion of tragedy mar our enjoyment
of their friendly companionship.
Longfellow's "Tales of a Wayside Inn"
spring from a similar meeting, but the
176
The Canterbury Tales
foundation for his set of poems is much
slighter, as befits the stories themselves.
Besides, Longfellow was the later writer,
and writes in confessed imitation of Chau-
cer.
Short as is the Prologue, there is
left untold in it. The shrine of Thoi
a Becket was a popular object for the
grim journeys, for the road to it was s:
easily travelled, as roads went in tl
days, and the shrine was in the great cc
dral city, itself well worth a visit.
That it was attractive to all classes we
can understand; and though. about a third
of the pilgrims were connected with the
Church, the rest fairly represent the secular
world. Three, the kn'ght, the squire, and
their comrade the y^^man, were types of
the military life that nourished chivalry
and its supporters. Mercantile and pro-
fessional life, trade and labor each had
representatives; and all were, as is plainly
said, fairly prosperous, and making the
177
In the Days of Chaucer
pilgrimage as much from pleasure as from
a sense of duty. Chaucer speaks of "twen-
ty-nine pilgrims," but there are more than
this number, as the readers may see by
counting those named in the Prologue, and
en adding the Canon and his Yeoman,
o join late in the journey, as told in the
anon Yeoman's Prologue."
anterbury was a busy commercial
1, its cathedral renowned throughout
;land, its people famed for public spirit
and independence. What could appeal',
more strongly to London's citizens than the \!
\i
ride thither, knowing it would confer upon
them a certain odor of sanctity, and that
they would meet upon the road many trav-
ellers going upon the same errand or rec-
tum ing ?
No doubt parties were made up just as
this one came together. The Tabard Inn I
at Southwark was a most convenient gath-
ering-place. Built around an open court,
the Intending pilgrim had but to take his
178
The Canterbury Tales
Dlace upon one of its galleries and watch |
:he coming of other travellers into the |
oaved court below. Then, as Chaucer did,/
le could make acquaintance, and add himA
ielf to what seemed an attractive party. /
Some critics have thought it unlikely
that there should have been so little re-
straint among pilgrims whose social ranks
were so different: that the knight and the
ploughman should so freely consort to-
gether. But in those days the classes were
so sharply divided by fixed barriers that
there was little danger of mistake. Dress,
manners, language — all marked the gentle
from the churl, even while their methods
of life were much the same; the barrier
was impassable, though at times the supe-
rior condescended to familiarity or the
inferior tried to presume upon kindness.
Yet, though there remained ajDarrier, there
was, as Matthew Browne points out, much
more contact between the classes than In
later times. The chase, war, castle-life,
179
In the Days of Chaucer
amusements — all brought together th?
gentles and those of low degree. Nowa-
days a nobleman wishing to be exclusive
could live almost without a word to a
fellow-being. Then, it would have been
impossible.
Chaucer tells us that in the evening
before the start he had spoken to every-
one ; and this shows there could have been
no difficulty in making acquaintance^ As
pilgrims, too, they were all equal, and this
may have caused a fellow-feeling that
tended to bring them together^^^~Certarinly
there could have been no formalities of
introduction, for later in the poem we find
that the innkeeper shows little knowledge
of his companions' names or state except
where their costumes help him in fixing
their quality.
This Innkeeper was a real personage.
Browne, in his "Chaucer's England,"
quotes from "Notes and Queries" a letter
that shows that "Harvey Bailly, hostelry-
i8o
The Canterbury Tales
keeper of Southwark, was in Parliament'*
at that time. And the Tabard Inn was in
existence until about 1875, though it is
doubtful what portion of the later building
dated from Edward's reign. The site of it
is known, and what Southwark was it is
easy to understand.
Lying just outside of London, it was a
true suburb, less strictly ruled and gov-
erned than the city, and therefore the
resort of those whose presence in the city
was for any reason unwelcome. Being on
the roads connecting London with Canter-
bury and with Kent, it was a natural place
for travellers to lodge, and so was well
provided with inns, for the accommodation
not only of pilgrims but of carters, mer-
chants, minstrels, and wanderers of all
sorts between the two cities. The Tabard
Inn, one of the most popular and pros-
perous, no doubt made its owner a man of
substance, well able to represent his shire
in Parliament.
181
sc
In the Days of Chaucer
Chaucer describes him as a big, master-
ful man, with bright eyes, sociable and
kindly — after his guests had settled their
bills, which it seems was customary after
supper. He is the one to propose that
stories shall be told, the best to win a sup-
per; his plan being that each pilgrim shall
tell four tales during the pilgrimage, two
going, two returning.
Next morning, the after-supper agree-
ment being confirmed, lots are drawn, andj
the Knight is appointed to tell the firs^y
story, as is proper in view of his position
in the company. '-^ .:
The story he chooses is such as would be
expected from a man of his traditions, a
story of knighthood and women in dis-
tress. Duke Theseus, the old Greek hero,
becomes changed into a representative of
mediaeval chivalry, and captures two
young knights, Arcite and Palamon, whose
rivalry for the love of Emelye makes the
romantic basis for the tale — of which a
182
The Canterbury Tales
large portion comes from Boccaccio's poem,
^Teseide."
The reader of to-day will find much
light upon the ways of Chaucer's days in
the description of the tournament in the
third part of the poem, the luxurious lists
built up for the fray, upon the walls of
which the poet has portrayed with a mas-
ter's power pictures as vivid as they are
brief:
** There saw I first the dark imagining
Of felony, and all the compassing.
The cruel ire, red as any gleede ; *
The pickpurse, and eke the pale drede ; f
The smiler with the knife under the cloak ;
The shepne J burning with the black smoke ;
The treason of the murdering in the bed
The open war with woundes || all bi-bled.''1T
Every form of tragic death is here sug-
gested in a word or two, and with a
strength few poets ever attain. And so
with other subjects, in a long gallery of
word-paintings.
* Live coal, f Dread. % Shed. || Wounds. ^ Bloody.
183
In the Days of Chaucer
To these lists come the knights, as
graphically depicted, and after a long dis-
course upon the prayers of Palamon and
Arcite and Emelye to the heathen gods, we
are present in the bustle and hubbub of the
tournament — a masterly piece of descrip-
tive writing — and see the battle lost and
won.
But Chaucer must tell the story, and,
indeed, all the stories. There is no profit
in condensing them into a few dry sen-
tences. We shall note only what informa-
tion they give to help us In entering into
the life of the times, and knowing the
people of England five centuries ago.
Besides, every reader of Chaucer's works
knows that there are some of the tales told
by the pilgrims which are better omitted.
There can be no objection to plain speak-
ing where it is required, but in works of
imagination the world of events is wide
enough and affords paths enough to avoid
the rubbish heaps.
184
The Canterbury Tales
After the telling of the Knight's ro-
mance the Miller, who Is drunk, tells a
story despite all efforts to restrain him ; but
there Is no need that we should soberly
rehearse the story of this drunken Miller.
It will be enough to say that It presents
pictures of town-life — the young scholar
devoted to astrology, weather-wise, fond of
playing on the harp; the carpenter who
rents his rooms, and has a pretty, young
wife, whose dress Is carefully described.
Chaucer herein gives an excellent idea of
a young housewife's garb, and of her
lively demeanor. We also have a portrait
of a dandified young clerk, with curly yel-
low hair, dressed In red and white, and are
told how he could "let blood, and clip and
shave," being a sort of barber-surgeon, or
write legal papers, as well as dance, sing,
and play Instruments. He even appears at
times as an actor in the miracle-plays, or
spectacles upon a high scaffolding in the
town.
185
In the Days of Chaucer
These are the characters In the story of
town life; and then the Reeve, being a
carpenter and offended by the Miller's
story about a fool carpenter, tells his own,
and gives us sketches of country life, since
his scene is a mill where two clerks come to
have their corn ground. This story, too,
is like an old Dutch painting of a village
turmoil, and equally unsavory. But in it
we have a portrait of a big, bullying miller,
who carries a knife in his stocking and is
ready for a fight or for robbing a cus-
tomer; a companion-picture of his proud
wife, brought up in a nunnery, daughter of
the parson of the town ; and their two chil-
dren. All are strong, hearty, coarse folk,
and nowise nice. And there is nothing in
the story of their adventures tempting us
to seek for light upon the life of the time.
The Cook follows, but before he is fairly
started we come to a note saying, *'0f this
Cook's tale maked Chaucer no more," and
we get nothing beyond a hasty sketch of an
i86
The Canterbury Tales
idle apprentice who is discharged with the
proverb, "Better is a rotten apple out of
hoard than that it rot all the remenant"
[remnant].
With the Cook's Tale are concluded the
tales told on the first day of the pil-
grimage.
This brings us to the Introduction to
the Man of Law's Prologue, in which we
find the Host fixing the very day and hour
— the eighteenth of April, 1388, at ten
o'clock — the very day of "Paul Revere's
Ride," told in the "Tales of a Wayside
Inn." Of course the actual date named by
Chaucer, three hundred and eighty-seven
years before, would correspond, in "new
style," to the twenty-ninth of April, since
eleven days were dropped when the calen-
dar was corrected in September, 1752.
The lengths of the tree-shadows serve
the Host for a timepiece, and the going of
the day gives him occasion for moral re-
marks on the loss of time before he calls
187
In the Days of Chaucer
upon the Man of Law to entertain the
company. The lawyer, after modestly
saying that he cannot tell such tales as
Chaucer told, and naming a few examples
of that poet's work, himself recites one
founded upon an old chronicle — the ad-
ventures of Constance, daughter of the
Emperor of Rome, who escapes by her
pious faith from many a grievous peril, and
returns home to live "in virtue and in holy
alms-deed."
Here again, although the story is inter-
esting and excellently told, reminding one
of the "Arabian Nights" by the complica-
tion of its plot, there is little in it that could
not be as well in any other time than Chau-
cer's. It belongs to the land of poesy where
dates do not exist, and where all ages are
equally at home.
To the proposal that the Parson shall
tell his story next, the clergyman replies by
rebuking the Host for an oath, and then
the Sailor interposes with, "I smell a Lol-
i88
The Canterbury Tales
lard [Wycliffite] in the wind," and insists
that there shall be no sermon preached.
The Shipman's tale follows, and is of
value as showing us a picture of the busy
merchant of the time, immersed in com-
merce, with books and money about him in
his counting-house, while his wife gets into
trouble by extravagance in dress, and by
borrowing to pay for her clothing.
We see in many of these stories that
the clergy were held in evil esteem, and
accused of abusing in every way their free-
dom of access to the homes of the citizens.
It is of course natural that stories told to
please a popular taste that was, to say the
least, not particular, should dwell upon the
vices and shortcomings of both churchmen
and laymen. But so often is the monk,
the friar, the pardoner, or the summoner
made the doer of evil that one must admit
there was reason for the reforms set afoot
by Wycliffe and his followers. Certainly,
if we are to take Chaucer's portrayals as
189
In the Days of Chaucer
just, we shall do little injustice by the con-
clusion that the wandering, thievish, scoun-
drelly churchmen of that day w^ere like a
swarm of vermin.
Even where there was probity, there
was still superstition and fanaticism, as is
seen in the Tale of the Prioress, who re-
counts the miracle of the coming to life of
a Christian child, murdered by a Jew. It
is a story like that of Hugh of Lincoln,
who was then believed to have been slain
by the Jews in a similar way. Such accu-
sations were not infrequently made against
this persecuted race, and goaded mobs to
fury against them in times of popular
tumult.
Next Chaucer is called upon, as de-
scribed in the passage already quoted, re-
lating to his personal appearance. He
responds by the. rhyming ballad of "Sir
Thopas," in parody of those "gestes" pop-
ular in England at the time. The cheap
jingle of the lines becomes, as it was meant
190
The Canterbury Tales
to do, unbearably monotonous, and is at
last stopped by the Host, who commands
the poet to "tell In prose somewhat at the
least In which there be some mirth or some
doctrine." Chaucer yields, and tells the
"Tale of Mellbeus" — which, to a modern
reader, Is even duller In Its long-winded
prose than Is Sir Thopas In Its trotting
rhyme.
But In Sir Thopas there are some par-
ticulars that Interest us. We have a de-
scription of the knight and of his pursuits :
I
'* He coulde hunt at wilde deer
And ride a-hawking for riveer
With grey goshawk on hand.
Thereto he was a good archeer ;
Of wrestling was there none his peer
Where any ram shall stand."
A ram was the usual prize in wrestling
bouts, and in the description of the Miller
we are told that he too was a winner of
rams by wrestling. Next comes a little
191
In the Days of Chaucer
landscape and woodland scene, a meeting
with a fierce giant, named "Oliphaunt," or
Elephant, who throws stones from a "staff-
sling," and finally the arraying of the
knight for combat, with minute detail of
what he wore — wearisome to the hearers,
perhaps, but instructive to us.
The "Melibeus" is a free translation of
a French version of a Latin treatise — a
long, dull, moralizing prose-story that is
of use only as proving that Chaucer's prose
was clear and easy in style, and as showing
that the fourteenth century had its full
share of proverbial wisdom gathered from
every source. But so dry is the treatise
that Chaucer is commended for modesty in
assigning this "Hobson's choice" to him-
self. We cannot see why such dull dis-
courses as this "Melibeus" and the "Par-
son's Tale" were listened to by the Host
and the Knight when they would not sub-
mit to "Sir Thopas" and the "Monk's
Tale." We can only guess that it was
192
The Canterbury Tales
thought improving to hear these sermon-
izings, and no one dared revolt against
them.
The Host's comment upon Mellbeus Is
a humorous wish that his wife might have
learned patience from It, whereas she Is a
shrew, eager to have him beat his knaves
with "great clubbed staves," and urges him
to slay those who fall to do her courtesy In
church — saying he has no spirit and should
"have her distaff and go spin." Inci-
dentally, the Host remarks that they are
approaching Rochester, which Informs us
that their journey Is about half done.
193
CHAPTER XII
THE "canterbury TALES" THE PIL-
GRIMS THEMSELVES
Without counting the very brief frag-
ment "Sir Thopas," there are twenty-three
Tales fairly completed. But this is a small
part of those promised in the prologue,
where each was to tell four, two on the
journey out, two on the way home. The
whole poem is incomplete, of course, but
there is sufficient variety in the tales to in-
dicate what the completed work would
have been.
The Monk, continuing in the moral
path chosen by Chaucer's "Melibeus,"
gives a long series of what were known as
"Tragedies" — brief sketches in verse recit-
ing the misfortunes of illustrious charac-
ters, serving in place of biographical no-
194
The Pilgrims
tices. The poems are not of especial
interest in any respect if we look at them
only as readers, and Chaucer tells us that
the Knight soon tires of the homilies, re-
minds the Monk that they all know the
lesson he is teaching, and with the cordial
seconding of the Host the Monk's Tale is
stopped before they all fall asleep ; and the
Nuns' Priest, John, is invited to tell some-
thing that will "gladden their hearts."
The story of the Nuns' Priest is the
charming little barnyard mock-heroic poem
of Chanticleer and the Fox. Beginning
with a sketch of the home of the poor
widow who ow^ns the fowls, we learn how
the cock dreams of falling victim to a
villainous fox, and then discusses with pru-
dent Dame Pertelote, the hen, the value of
dreams as omens, each wisely quoting
learned authorities. The cock, being re-
assured, falls victim to the crafty fox, who
flatters the bird into giving an exhibition
of his crowing. The passage where Chan-
195
In the Days of Chaucer
ticker performs is exquisitely written, and
so are many other pictures in this wonder-
ful tale — a most successful example of
Chaucer's lighter style. The escape of
Chanticleer from his enemy delights the
reader, and altogether the Nuns' Priest is
worthy of the praise he receives from his
companions for his share in the story-
telling.
This is supposed to end the stories told
on the second day's journey.
Without the usual introduction comes
the Physician's Tale — the story of Vir-
ginia, from Livy's history — the same
made so familiar by Macaulay's "Lays of
Ancient Rome." In this the portrait of
Virginia is especially notable, but the tell-
ing of the tragic deed should be enough
to convince any doubter of Chaucer's
power to write in the highest style. The
Host's comments show him deeply moved,
but he reacts into his usual joking manner,
and calls for something to take away the
196
The Pilgrims
sad remembrance of the tragedy. The
Pardoner Is urged to tell a "merry tale,"
and then, because of objections from the
"gentles," he agrees to tell a moral tale,
prefacing It by getting a drink and a cake
at an ale-house, and then by giving an ac-
count of his method of preaching — show-
ing himself an arrant knave and confessed
hypocrite. The story is upon a well-
known plot, that of the rogues who fall
out over a treasure they have found, and
by treachery one to another are all slain.
As a preface to the narrative, the Par-
doner delivers a sermon on various vices,
and as an epilogue vaunts the value of the
pardons and relics he has to sell — like a
very soul-Insurance agent.
Rebuked by the foul-mouthed Host, a
quarrel arises, which Is ended by the In-
tercession of the Knight, by whose Inter-
cession the Host and the Pardoner are
brought to exchange the kiss of peace !
The deaf Wife of Bath follows, with
197
In the Days of Chaucer
her garrulous discourse on her experiences
of five husbands, and with her story of
the knight who carried out his promise
to wed an old hag and then found her
transformed into a beautiful young bride
— an idea that has come down to our times
in "Beauty and the Beast" and other fairy-
tales.
The Wife of Bath was a great favor-
ite with Chaucer, perhaps the character he
believed the best he had drawn; and he re-
fers to her in his "Envoy to Bukton," ad-
vising his friend to read of her.
Two stories follow told in malice — the
Friar striving to cast ridicule upon the
Summoner, and the Summoner responding
in kiild. Both seem so expert at mud-
throwing that lovers of cleanliness will do
well to keep their distance, since there is
little to be learned from either story be-
yond a knowledge how the poor were
robbed by the "summoners," or sheriffs of
the ecclesiastics, and how the friars were
198
The Pilgrims
often thieves and rascals as well as beg-
gars. Despite the unsavory nature of the
tales, we can see how they might please
those who had learned to hate these wolves
in sheep's clothing.
"Patient Griselda" is the story told by
the Clerk, who gives due credit to Petrarch
for the plot. It Is this passage which
makes critics believe that Chaucer records
a personal meeting with the Italian poet,
though It seems a very slight foundation.
However, one might fairly ask whether
the meeting would make any difference,
one way or the other. An envoy. In which
Chaucer moralizes on the rarity of Grl-
seldas, forms an appendix; and then the
Merchant, the Squire, and the Second Nun
— who tells the legend of St. Cecilia — the
Canon's Yeoman — who speaks of alche-
mists and their art — the Manciple, and
Parson offer their share of entertainment.
The tales of the fourth and last, day of
the pilgrimage begin with the Squire's.
199
In the Days of Chaucer
It will be enough to characterize these
stories briefly. The Merchant points the
well-known moral against the marriage of
age and youth — "January" and "May";
the Squire's subject is a medieval story of
magic, an Arabian Nights' wonder-tale;
the legend of St. Cecilia is one of the regu-
lar lives of the saints; the Canon Yeoman's
expose of the tricks of a swindling alche-
mist is excellent in all respects; the Man-
ciple gives a fable explaining how the crow
came to be black, and then the Parson
claims the right to preach.
The Parson's long sermon — the last of
the collection that has come to us — is
simply a sermon, and one is glad to know
that Lowell prefers to believe it is not
Chaucer's, especially as it concludes with a
"recantation" by the poet of some of his
very best work. Only conjectures can be
made; but may it not be that this expres-
sion of repentance is a pious forgery, and
that more than one of the missing Can-
200
The Pilgrims
terbury Tales have been made away with?
The missing "Cook's Tale" was once re-
placed by the story of "Gamelin," from
another pen than Chaucer's we are told.
There is no possibility of denying that
there are many passages in Chaucer's
works that not only the enemies but the
friends of the poet would wish never writ-
ten. But the same is true in some degree
of the classical writers in all lands, and
those who are to study these writings must
decide for themselves whether to avoid
these portions. There is much of Chaucer
that may be read with delight and without
aversion, and the rest is like certain facts
in nature — to be frankly avoided by those
whom they offend, courageously met when
a proper motive requires it.
There is more good and clean literature
than can be read in a lifetime, and our
tastes and principles must guide us in our
reading. If we prefer Chaucer in selec-
tions, there are edited texts to be obtained
201
In the Days of Chaucer
without difficulty; and what is omitted
from them is of secondary importance to
the reader who wishes to know the poet
only at his best.
Why is it, in view of the blemishes, the
faults, the copying, that these "Canterbury
Tales" have always been praised, cher-
ished, studied, held to be one of the great
treasures of English literature? It is of
no use to deny that the "Canterbury Tales"
are Chaucer's masterpiece and his monu-
ment. What makes them great?
One need but read them to be able to
answer that question. They have a truth,
a vitality, a reality that appeal to all of
us. We come face to face with men and
women of five hundred years ago, and
know them as if we had mounted into the
saddle and gone on the pilgrimage our-
selves. We see them, hear the horses'
hoofs, move on the road, halt, and listen
as they do. We are even conscious that
the pilgrims are more real than the per-
202
The Pilgrims
sonages in their stories, though these do
not lack distinctness. Longfellow's "Tales
of a Wayside Inn" are charming, but com-
pare his sketches of his tale-tellers with the
pictures drawn by his mediaeval forerunner.
Chaucer was a customs-official, Long-
fellow a professor in a great college, and
yet —
Let us hear Longfellow first; and then
Chaucer on the same subject:
*' A theologian from the school
Of Cambridge on the Charles, was there;
Skilful alike with tongue and pen.
He preached to all men everywhere
The gospel of the Golden Rule,
The New Commandment given to men.
Thinking the deed and not the creed.
Would help us in our utmost need.
With reverent feet the earth he trod
Nor banished nature from his plan.
But studied still with deep research
To build the Universal Church,
Lofty as is the love of God,
And ample as the wants of man.*'
203
In the Days of Chaucer
Elevating, scholarly, polished. Very ex-
cellent verse, though far from Longfellow
at his best. Now let us hear Chaucer's
lines :
"A good man was there of religioun.
And was a poor parson of a town;
But rich he was of holy thought and work;
He was also a learned man, a clerk
That Christes gospel truly woulde preach.
His parisshens devoutly would he teach.
Benign he was, and wonder diHgent,
And in adversity full patient.
And such he was y-proved often sythes.
Full loath were he to cursen for his tithes.
But rather would he given, out of doubt.
Unto his poore parisshens about
Of his off 'ring, and eke of his substance.
He could in little thing have sufEsance."
To be fair, let us stop here, since this
portion Is about equal In length to the ex-
tract from Longfellow. Now, which of
these poets was thinking of theology, and
which of the man he described? See
which tells the most about his subject.
204
The Pilgrims
Longfellow has only one line that even
gives a hint about the "Theologian" him-
self — "With reverent feet the earth he
trod'' — and that line Is a figure of speech;
while Chaucer, In little more space, only
six more words, tells us the man's char-
acter, disposition, practice, and theory.
There is no doubt possible which is the bet-
ter poetic, the better imaginative work.
Let us compare the two landlords — him
of the Wayside Inn with Harry Bailly, of
the Tabard. Here is all the descriptive
part of Longfellow's lines :
*<But first the landlord will I trace;
Grave in his aspect and attire;
A man of ancient pedigree,
A Justice of the Peace was he.
Known in all Sudbury as < The Squire.' "
And here Is Chaucer's equally brief
sketch of a similar type :
**A seemly man our hoste was withal
For to have been a marshall in a hall.
205
In the Days of Chaucer
A large man he was, with eyen steep,*
A fairer burgess is there none in Cheap:
Bold of his speech, and wise, and well y-taught.
And of manhood him lackede right naught.'*
Again it will be seen how much more
is told by Chaucer. If you try to picture
each, it will be seen at once how many de-
tails Chaucer has given. ''Grave is his
aspect and attire" — that is all Longfellow
tells; it would fit any one of a thousand;
and see the significance of Chaucer's words
— "seemly," "bold of speech," "lacking
naught of manhood"; while "grave" is all
we have to set against them.
Only in Shakespeare will better portrait-
painting be found — as in the "seven ages
of man," the "Justice, with eyes severe and
beard of formal cut," the soldier "full of
strange oaths, and bearded like the pard."
Is not Chaucer a poet of the same nature?
Tennysoncan describe as forcibly as Chau-
cer, as is shown in his picture of the
* Sharp.
206
The Pilgrims
miller In 'The Miller's Daughter," which
Matthew Browne compares with Chau-
cer's descriptions of men of the same call-
ing; but he prefers to elaborate rather than
to say the one right thing and leave the
phrase. Lowell, In his essay on Chaucer,
quotes "a verse that makes us glance over
our shoulder as If we heard a stealthy
tread behind us." This Is the line, already
quoted from the Knight's Tale, describing
a figure of Revenge :
*« The smiler with the knife hid under the cloak."
In fact, to help the student of Chaucer
to know his qualities, this essay of Lowell's
should be the first thing read.
Meanwhile, It will be well to consider
the characters Introduced to us as taking
part In the Canterbury pilgrimage. They
divide naturally Into a few groups, of
which the first Is the Knight and his com-
pany, he a lover of chivalry, gentle of
speech, dignified and wise. A far-travelled
207
In the Days of Chaucer
veteran, he has just stepped ashore from
his latest voyage, and in his armor-stained
coat hastens to the shrine in fulfilment of
some vow. From his interruption of the
Monk's "Tragedies" we may conclude
that he dislikes mournful subjects, having
seen enough real woe to be impatient of
fictitious troubles.
With him is his dandyish son, the Squire,
in richly embroidered coat, an accom-
plished young blade of twenty years, full
of jokes and songs, a serenader before
ladies' windows by night, and yet courteous
and not forward — fit material to be sobered
by war and council into a successor of the
Knight, his father.
A Yeoman, an archer, is their only fol-
lower — though this is remarked upon as
unusual ; and in him we see the private sol-
dier — the bowman, with round *'nut" head
and tawny skin, who set at naught the
charges of steel-clad knights — and also the
man skilled in woodcraft, the Forester.
208
The Pilgrims
So much for the army and the chivalry —
the courtier being lacking to the picture
except in the person of Chaucer himself,
who is kept in the background throughout.
The Church, as has been said, claims
about one-third of all the party, and has
a mingling of good and bad — the dainty,
coquettish Prioress, the poor Parson, and
the Monk and Nuns being far better in all
respects than the big Friar Hubert, the
repulsive Summoner, and the yellow-haired
Pardoner with his cynical hypocrisy. As
for the Canon, who comes riding In haste
to join the party at "Boghton under
Blee," just as the tale of St. Cecilia is
ended, he seems hardly to belong to the
Church party, despite his title — as he is
only an alchemist, if we trust the Yeoman,
who Introduces him ; and Is likewise a
swindler, if we believe that the "Canon
Yeoman's Tale" was really about his mas-
ter, in spite of his weak disclaimer. The
prologue to that tale, and the tale itself,
209
In the Days of Chaucer
should by no means be overlooked by the
reader, since otherwise some excellent de-
scriptive writing and a good story will be
lost.
The professional group, the Clerk, Doc-
tor, and Man of Law, are at least respect-
able, though none is attractive. The
taciturn, thin Clerk, absorbed in study; the
stingy, learned, sceptical Doctor; and the
pompous, able Lawyer, have too little hu-
manity about them to win friends. But
the opposite fault is to be found with the
business-men — the Merchant sitting high
on his horse and looking prosperous; the
generous white-bearded Franklin, who
wished his son were like the young Squire ;
the burly, noisy Miller, "Robin," with his
spade-shaped beard, his bagpipe and his
sword; the old Reeve, skinny, quick-tem-
pered, riding ever hindmost of the proces-
sion, where he may see and not be seen;
and the prosperous tradesmen in their new
clothes.
2IO
The Pilgrims
These do not lack humanity; they are
much too familiar, and far too easy-going.
Chaucer takes the trouble to tell us that
both the Miller and the Reeve were
"churls," and he might have saved his
time. The Cook, also, and the Shipman
of the bark "Magdalen," are churls, and
the first a drunken churl at that. The only
"wight of low degree" whom we can
heartily approve is the industrious, self-
. respecting Plowman, brother of the "poor
Parson," and as virtuous as he.
Of the Wife of Bath we can hardly
speak critically; she is so self-sufficient,
shrewd, and courageous that one might be
excused for taking her enormous hat,
"broad as a buckler," her ten-pound hand-
kerchief, and scarlet stockings as signals of
danger, warranting instant flight. There is
no timid femininity about the gap-toothed
Wife of Bath, and yet she is the master-
ful type of women who sometimes prove
to be the tenderest to those in trouble.
211
In the Days of Chaucer
If there is among the pilgrims no gra-
cious type of woman, though Chaucer has
proved in more than one place that he
could describe gentle and noble woman-
hood, may it not have been that such
women then were busy in their homes — as,
in our own days, the same type find their
earthly pilgrimages can be made nearer
home, and to better advantage?
In turning from the delightful "Canter-
bury Tales" there is a sense of gratitude
that the tooth of Time has spared this
great treasure of our literature. Incom-
plete the poet left it, and even more in-
complete it may have come to us; but, like
some fragment of a Greek statue, nothing
can replace it.
Mrs. Browning says : "He sent us a
train of pilgrims, each with a distinct in-
dividuality apart from the pilgrimage, all
the way from Southwark and the Tabard
Inn, to Canterbury and Becket's shrine:
and their laughter comes never to an end,
212
The Pilgrims
and their talk goes on with the stars, and
all the railroads which may Intersect the
spoilt earth forever, cannot hush the
'tramp, tramp' of their horses' feet."
213
CHAPTER XIII
AFTER Chaucer's death
Leaving untold the rest of the tales of
his body of pilgrims, the poet died on the
twenty-fifth of October, 1400, as we know
from the inscription that once was carved
upon his monument in the Abbey; and this
was copied, it is believed, from his tomb-
stone, for the monument was not erected
until 1556, when Nicholas Brigham, an
admirer, replaced the earlier stone by a
tomb of gray marble.
The second memorial to the poet has
also suffered during the three hundred and
fifty years of its existence, and its lettering,
together with a full-length portrait of
Chaucer, is nearly gone.
But Chaucer was the first literary
celebrity to occupy a place in England's
214
After Chaucer's Death
pantheon of fame, and as other poets were
laid near him, the "Poets' Corner" was
consecrated to men of letters.
How much was Indicated by Chaucer's
burial In the Abbey we cannot tell; but
there Is no doubt that before his death he
had received the recognition that was his
right. There are enough lines In his praise
to prove that the writers of his own days
knew him for a master. Another proof of
his popularity Is the large number of
manuscripts that must have been In ex-
istence In his lifetime or not many years
afterwards, since many yet remain.
To Occleve, an appreciative friend If
not himself a great poet, we owe the por-
trait which has already been described. A
copy of It Is the frontispiece to this volume.
Gower, a poet of higher rank than Occleve,
showed his admiration for Chaucer by fol-
lowing his example In writing poems In
English, rather than in Latin or French.
Lydgate, a younger man than either Gower
215
In the Days of Chaucer
or Chaucer, took pains to testify his admi-
ration in more than one of his writings.
Indeed, Chaucer's range was so wide,
and he was so excellent in the various styles
he adopted, that it was hard not to be his
follower unless a poet chose to adopt the
older models set by the balladists or to
write in the ruder form chosen by Lang-
land. Little room for originalit}^ was left
to the poets who survived; and it was not
until new ways of thinking, new views of
the world, had broadened men's outlook
that there was room for the great Eliza-
bethan poets.
Taine, in his "English Literature," finds
that Chaucer himself was unable to escape
entirely from the narrowing philosophy of
the age, and blames that philosophy for
the intolerable dulness of such productions
as the "Boethius," the "Melibeus," and
the "Parson's Tale." When Chaucer felt
bound to be "improving," he was quite as
tiresome as the dull preachers of his day;
2l6
After Chaucer s Death
and It was only when the poet felt free to
be amusing or delightful that he wrote
with the full power of his genius.
Chaucer's successors and contemporaries
did not seem to have his power of occa-
sional escape Into freedom. Gower and
Occleve, Lydgate, and the lesser lights sel-
dom wander from the set "morals" and
"examples" that repel the modern reader.
We have drawn a line between literature
and the school-book or book of sermons,
and prefer each unmixed, or at least prop-
erly labelled. The people of the Middle
Ages were likely to divide all discourse
Into two great classes — the moral and the
moral-less. The poet did not wish to be
classed with the jesters, buffoons, street-
singers, or wandering balladlsts, and so
was likely to put Into his poems much too
large a dose of sermonizing.
Chaucer had been able, being a man of
remarkable genius, to retain his high rank
as a poet and yet to give himself unusual
217
In the Days of Chaucer
freedom in subjects and in treatment. No
poet, for years after his death, was capable
of succeeding to Chaucer's place.
The three men already named were the
ablest writers of their time except Lang-
land, who was of a different order and
wrote for another audience. By common
consent Gower, the "moral Gower," as
Chaucer called him, is the most important.
We will speak briefly of Chaucer's influ-
ence upon these three writers, giving
Gower the first place.
We know the two poets were friends,
and have seen that during the second of
Chaucer's absences from England in Italy
Gower was one of two friends appointed
to represent him. Gower, in an epilogue
to his English poem, the "Confessio Aman-
tis," spoke of Chaucer at some length, in
a passage often quoted. But there is also
an interesting story told in the prologue
to that poem, for Gower says that he,
while rowing on the Thames, met the
2i8
After Chaucer's Death
barge of Richard II, and was Invited
aboard, and after some talk was requested
by the king to produce some more poetical
work, "to book some new thing In the way
he was used." Though old and weakened
by Illness, Gower consented, and wrote the
"Confesslo," dedicating it to the king.
The first edition of this poem In Its epi-
logue represented Venus as giving to the
poet a message to be delivered to Chaucer.
The end of It reads thus :
" Thou shalt him tellen this message.
That he, upon his later age.
To set an end to all his work
As he which is mine owen clerk,
Do make his testament of love
As thou hast done thy shrift above.
So that my court it may record.'*
But in a later and revised edition the
poem is dedicated to Henry, Duke of Lan-
caster, instead of Richard II, though the
poem is stated to be written while Richard
was still on the throne, in the sixteenth
219
In the Days of Chaucer
year of his reign — that is, between June,
1392, and June, 1393.
Besides changing the dedication, Gower
left out the reference to Chaucer ; and some
argue from this a quarrel — another of the
wild suppositions from flimsy evidence.
At all events, they were friends for some
time; and since Gower was dignified,
learned, and rich, we may assume that
Chaucer was not such as Gower would dis-
approve as a friend or hesitate to follow as
a leader in the fashion of writing poetry
In English.
From another part of the epilogue
already quoted we learn on Gower's au-
thority that Chaucer's poems — his "ditties
and his songes glad" — have filled the
whole land. From Chaucer we get the
term "the moral Gower," a description
that will always exist; and we also may
read a passage where two stories contained
in the "Confessio Amantis" are cited as
the sort of shocking incidents Chaucer
220
After Chaucer s Death
thinks poets should not Include In their
verse, since poetry should not deal with
what is revolting.
There is therefore plenty to show that
in John Gower we know one of Chaucer's
closest friends, and that this friend was a
man of excellent character and held In
high repute, though it is Professor Louns-
bury's opinion that he never approached
Chaucer In popularity, in poetical skill, or
In true merit.
Lydgate should no doubt come next to
Gower, but It will be enough to say that
this "monk of Bury'' was In poetr^^ the
scholar of Chaucer, and composed more
than tvv^o hundred and fifty pieces of the
greatest variety and of differing value.
Some critics call his works rubbish; others
say he has been "oftener abused than
read," as Disraeli records In his "Ameni-
ties of Literature." We thank the liter-
ary monk for two references to Chaucer.
He says that "this said poet, my master,
221
In the Days of Chaucer
composed full many a fresh ditty, com-
plaints, ballades, roundels, virelays"; and
he also tells us that Chaucer never allowed
himself to be worried by small faults or
criticisms, but did his best in his work and
let it go at that.
Disraeli also quotes from Warton, the
early historian of English poetry, a state-
ment showing that Lydgate was a veritable
Jack-of -all-work in writing, composing
verses for pageants, making up masques,
or furnishing songs or cards for all holi-
days and festivals. That Coleridge and
Gray admired Lydgate more than Gower
is learned also from Disraeli's article in the
book already quoted — one of that delight-
ful series all lovers of English literature
should possess.
Occleve (or Hoccleve) also is treated
in another of Disraeli's essays, and opin-
ions for and against him are w^eighed; but
we must at all events remember with grat-
itude that he caused the portrait of Chau-
222
After Chaucer s Death
cer to be handed down to us — the only
others named by the authorities being a
painting in the Bodleian Library and one
in the British Museum. Possibly Occleve's
is the original of all.
Only the special student need look be-
yond the three poets already named for
early successors or followers of Chaucer.
All who have studied the times agree that
there was a long delay before there was
any poetry comparable to his, and that it
was in Scotland the English poet found his
worthiest followers for many a long year
after his voice was silent.
One advantage came from this. Chau-
cer's language became the main source of
literary English. Had there been other
poets to follow him closely in varying dia-
lects his influence would have been les-
sened. But his English — that Southeast
Midland dialect, the talk of the court, of
London — was left to work its way alone,
so far as literature went. You will find in
223
In the Days of Chaucer
histories of literature how the bards of
the North, the Scots, were led to follow
the Father of English Poetry, and to
learn from him the skill and graces he had
learned partly from Petrarch, Dante, and
Boccaccio. You will read something of
Thomas the Rhymer, of Andrew of Wyn-
toun, especially of Robert Henryson, a
monk or schoolmaster, and of James I of
Scotland, the last two being professed fol-
lowers and scholars of Chaucer.
Then you will see how Caxton, who set
up his printing-press in Westminster, also
printed his books in the common tongue of
London — the same Midland dialect, and
thus helped to make it the standard Eng-
lish. But here we need consider only these
general facts, and remember how it is to
Chaucer's poems that we owe the form of
our language.
Lowell says that Chaucer's genius gave
the language life, and showed its power.
"In this sense," he writes, "it Is hardly too
224
After Chaucer's Death
much to say that Chaucer, like Dante,
found his native tongue a dialect and left
it a language. But it was not what he did
with deliberate purpose of reform, it was
his kindly and plastic genius that wrought
this magic of renewal and inspiration. It
was not the new words he introduced, but
his way of using the old ones that sur-
prised them into grace, ease, and dignity
in their own despite."
But this question of language is inci-
dental, after all. What kept Chaucer's
poems alive and made them a continuing
influence was something lying far deeper
than language or choice of words. For
the first time in English poetry we see real
men and women, drawn so they do not
lose their character and individuality, and
so combined In action and happening as to
give us a complete work of art. "It is his
largeness of heart, his wide tolerance,
which enables him to reflect man for us as
none but Shakespeare has ever reflected
225
In the Days of Chaucer
him; and to do this with a pathos, a
shrewd sense, and kindly humor, a fresh-
ness and joyousness of feeling that even
Shakespeare has not surpassed," is Green's
verdict in his "History of the English Peo-
ple," a verdict that will perhaps surprise
some readers by the comparison with
Shakespeare.
The death of Chaucer preceded a
stormy period in English letters, a time
when poetry was hardly to find a hearing
for many years, and then was to make up
for long silence by the brilliance of the age
of Elizabeth. Meanwhile, wherever there
is still poetical life, the influence of Chau-
cer is to be traced, now in a quotation, now
by the borrowing of a plot, and again in
the use of metres he introduced or de-
vised, or in a popular ballad that told in
shorter form such a story as that of "Pa-
tient Griselda."
When Henry VII was firmly estab-
lished on the throne, and the White and
226
After Chaucer s Death
Red Roses were reconciled, the poets con-
sidered themselves as the successors to the
men of the fourteenth century, and were
glad to write in praise of the earlier mas-
ters. Here again it is impossible to quote
the passages without treating the subject
from a text-book standpoint.
Ward's "Chaucer" gives shortly an ex-
cellent sketch of the obligations of these
writers to Chaucer, citing as examples
Hawes, who wrote a chapter in praise of
Chaucer, Gower, and Lydgate; Barklay,
whose "Ship of Fools" shows traces of an
influence from the "Canterbury Tales";
Skelton, whose patron was likewise an
editor of Chaucer's works; Heywood, who
quoted or stole lines of Chaucer's; and
Tottel, who included in a poetic miscellany
"The Good Counsel of Chaucer."
Reaching the Elizabethans, there is
found the same sort of evidence that Geof-
frey Chaucer had not lost his hold upon
either readers or writers. All speak of
227
In the Days of Chaucer
him or show that his works are known.
We shall find in the next chapter verses
from Spenser, words of praise from Sir
Philip Sidney, lines from Drayton, all
singing the praises of the Father of Eng-
lish Poetry, while an examination of the
works of the early dramatists will show
that borrowings from the rich store of his
works was quite a habit in the days of good
Queen Bess.
Later in English history came a time
when Chaucer was less thought of. The
days of the civil war in England were in
no way favorable to his fame. Though
now and then is to be found a writer re-
ferring to him as the greatest of English
poets, they are but following the fashion
of preceding years. He was read to some
extent, but it was by men of scholarly
tastes, such as Milton, who made in a re-
cently discovered commonplace book sev-
eral extracts from Chaucer.
As time w^ent on there arose the belief
228
After Chaucer's Death
that, because of his unintelligible English,
Chaucer was to be forgotten, and some
men believed that in order that any work
in literature should survive it must be put
into Latin. Lord Bacon, much earlier, had
been of the same opinion. Chaucer's
"Troilus and Criseyde" was consequently
published with a Latin translation on op-
posite pages. Then, too, many tried to
modernize his language.
But here and there throughout England
were readers of the old English poet, and
by these men the lamp of admiration was
kept alive, and this in spite of those who
looked upon his verses as uncouth and
rough because they had no idea how they
should be read to bring out their music.
And when the days of Pope and Dryden
came to an end, when less artificial stand-
ards were adopted, the admiration and
appreciation of Chaucer revived and in-
creased.
To-day he is perhaps considered greater
229
In the Days of Chaucer
than ever before. Professor Lounsbury,
in his introduction to his "Studies in Chau-
cer," asserts that Chaucer had probably-
been more read during the twenty years
from 1 87 1 to 1 89 1 (the latter being the
date at which these studies appeared)
than during the preceding two centuries.
In England the Chaucer Society has done
everything for the study and popularizing
of his works, and editions of the poems or
studies relating to the author are numerous
enough to show that they appeal to a large
and widening circle.
As we gradually learn more of the
poet's life and personality, we inevitably
are drawn to him and to his works, and
soon find that he is a necessary link In the
long chain of writers who have made for us
that literature in which the mental life of
mankind is preserved. We get rid of the
temporary fashions or ideas that attach us
for a time to writers who have only a lim-
ited range or purpose, and come more and
230
After Chaucer s Death
more to hold In regard the great, broad-
minded writers — among whom Chaucer is
winning, if he has not already won his
place.
231
CHAPTER XIV
ABOUT THE EDITING OF CHAUCER
William Caxton, the first English
printer, and also the first to print any of
Chaucer's works, was born more than
twenty years after the poet's death; ap-
prentice to a mercer, he left England
shortly after receiving a legacy from his
master, and went to the Netherlands,
where he prospered in Bruges as a mer-
chant. When nearly fifty Caxton visited
Cologne, and there learned printing. Re-
turning to Bruges, he produced the first
book printed in English, "The Recuyell
of the Histories of Troy," and two others.
At the age of fifty-five Caxton set up
his press near Westminster Abbey, where
he printed small pamphlets, certain writ-
ings of Lydgate's among others, and be-
232
His Editors
fore long brought out the first edition of
the "Canterbury Tales," a big folio edi-
tion of 748 pages. Chaucer's "Boethius"
also appeared within Caxton's first three
years in London, and Gower's "Confessio"
was printed not long afterward, and then
the "Canterbury Tales" was issued in a
second, corrected edition.
A reprint of the Tales was issued also
by Wynkyn de Worde, Caxton's appren-
tice and successor. But others had learned
the art and mystery of printing, for within
thirty-four years after Caxton's beginning
four hundred books had come from Eng-
lish presses.
The first printing of Chaucer is not
dated, but is believed to have been pub-
lished about 1478. In 1484 Caxton had
found the manuscript he had used was
faulty, and had secured a better one for
the second edition. From Caxton's press
had come, besides the "Canterbury Tales,"
several other poems of Chaucer's; but it
233
In the Days of Chaucer
was not until 1526, a century and a quar-
ter after the poet's death, that any attempt
was made to bring together his works,
which was done by a printer named
Pynson.
Next, in 1532, came an edition super-
vised by Thynne, Chief Clerk of the
Kitchen to Henry VIII, who ransacked all
the libraries of England to make the text
as perfect as possible; but one of the most
learned writers on Chaucer preferred Cax-
ton's second issue.
Then other editions appeared in 1550
and 1 56 1, many poems not belonging to
Chaucer being added; and in 1598 ap-
peared another with a life of Chaucer,
and other helps to the reader. This, ex-
panded, came out again in 1602, and then,
as Professor Lounsbury says, "the text
was to remain undisturbed for more than
two hundred years.''
One thing is to be noted, however, in
an edition bearing the date 172 1. Hith-
234
His Editors
erto Chaucer had been printed always In
the type known as black-letter, and this had
made it certain that only scholars would
dare read it ; the Urry edition was put into
ordinary type, despite the wails of certain
antiquaries. As the years went on, vari-
ous attempts were made to bring out a
fitting edition, but none especially com-
mendable was completed. Dr. Johnson at
one time thought to undertake the work,
and wrote out a scheme for it, but went
no further. The poet Gray studied Chau-
cer's metre, and believed that ignorance of
early English was to blame for the ap-
parent difficulty in reading the poems
musically.
But it was in 1775 that a capable editor
at last appeared to take in hand the editing
of Chaucer. This was Thomas Tyrwhitt,
educated at Eton and Oxford, who died
while curator of the British Museum In
1786.
He edited the "Canterbury Tales" only,
235
In the Days of Chaucer
but did it so thoroughly that his version of
the text has ever since been received as
superior to all others, except for matters
in which later knowledge has been ac-
quired. Tyrwhitt had exquisite literary
taste, and made Chaucer clear and intel-
ligible so far as the learning of the time
permitted.
But before Chaucer could be read
musically and fully understood it was nec-
essary to recover a fuller knowledge of
the language he wrote ; and this work was
well done, especially by Gesenius, the
German scholar, and Professor Child,
of Harvard; and at the suggestion of the
latter the Chaucer Society was founded in
1867. This society brought out a six-
column edition of the "Canterbury Tales,"
and other most valuable publications,
which have enormously stimulated study
of the poet, and have put into the hands
of readers excellent editions, well-punct-
uated, annotated, cleared of blunders, and
236
His Editors
generally readable, though they have tried
to guard against unnecessary changes, be-
lieving an unintelligible line often better
than a doubtful correction.
The work is still going on, for Chaucer
covers so wide a field that nearly every
new fact we learn about the fourteenth
century is likely to aid us in understanding
some reference in his poems. Only by a
close personal study of his poems can it be
understood how many a difficulty has been
cleared away for us, and what laborious
hours have gone to the correction of a
single small error. Indeed, it is worth
while to read somewhat closely the history
of Chaucer's texts, so that v/e may un-
derstand the debt we owe to the patient
scholarship which is reconstructing for us
the work done by our early poets and
dramatists.
Certainly Chaucer would have been
deeply grateful to all who try to make
his text clear, as we know from at least
237
In the X)ays of Chaucer
two passages he has written. One is a
little poem addressed to his "scrivener,"
Adam. It is short enough to quote entire :
"Adam, scriven, if ever it thee befalle
Boece or Troilus for to writen new,
Under thy long locks thou must have the scalle*
Butj- after my making thou write more true.
So oft a day I must thy work renew.
It to correct and eke to rub and scrape;
And all is through thy negligence and rape. | ' '
Of course this is playful, but it shows
that mistakes were made and that Chaucer
was not careless about them. The other
passage occurs toward the end of "Troilus
and Criseyde," and runs thus:
•* And, for there is so great diversity
In English, and in writing oi our tongue,
So pray I God that none miswrite thee.
Nor thee mis-metre, for default of tongue;
And read whereso thou be, or elles§ sung.
That thou be understood, I God beseech.'*
* Scald. t Unless. + Haste. § Else.
238
His Editors
But Chaucer could not then know that,
with the best wish to do him justice, we do
not quite understand just how his poems
are to be read in metre. There are two
schools in regard to metre in poetry. One
makes metre a matter of syllables, the
other a matter of accenting. One thinks a
line is not metrical if it cannot be brought
under certain rules of scansion (w^ith ex-
ceptions galore, by the way) ; the other
school insists that any line is good in
metre if it is good in musical reading. Ed-
gar A. Poe has treated this subject very
interestingly in his essay, "The Rationale
of Verse"; but it is not to be denied that
there are good authorities and good argu-
ments on each side, and that in different
languages different rules apply.
Good editions of Chaucer usually con-
tain such directions in regard to his metre
as will enable readers to find him musical,
and those who intend to go deeply into the
subject will have no difficulty in securing
239
In the Days of Chaucer
reading matter in plenty to occupy all the
leisure they care to give.
Lowell believes Chaucer "one of the
best versifiers that ever made English trip
and sing with a gayety that seems careless,
but where every foot beats time to the tune
of the thought," and we may surely rest
satisfied with any method of reading that
leaves the poet his music, and makes neces-
sary no great violence to the laws of accent-
ing and pronunciation.
In the manuscript days, when to pro-
duce a single copy of the Bible took so
long that it required twenty scribes and a
year's work to produce an edition of one
hundred, the manuscript of a celebrated
poem was a possession to be cherished.
We are told that Froissart prepared for
Richard II a presentation copy of essays
which is thus described :
"It was illuminated and bound in silver-
gilt velvet with studs of silver-gilt, and
gold roses in the centre, with two great
240
His Editors
gold clasps richly wrought In the middle
with golden rose-sprays." No wonder the
gift greatly pleased the king — as we are
told it did.
But though manuscripts were so val-
uable, copyists were as fallible then as
now; and with fifty surviving manuscripts
of the "Canterbury Tales" we cannot
always find a single correct version of a
puzzling passage. The copyists copied
others' mistakes and introduced new ones.
Ignorant editors made changes that were
uncalled for and absurd, and to-day there
remain more than a few passages that can-
not be made sensible, and references to
matters lost in the lumber-room of by-
gone customs.
Still, we have enough of Chaucer's un-
doubted and genuine work in carefully
edited texts to enable us to appreciate his
genius fully, and may leave the disputed
matters to the scholars engaged in un-
tangling literary puzzles, only remember-
241
In the Days of Chaucer
Ing to be grateful for their labors In
making our paths clear.
Nor is it only a clearing of the text that
has helped us to know the poet. Much
more important has been the work of sepa-
rating from the genuine poems an enor-
mous mass of verse that had been dumped
at Chaucer's door by the rivalry of editors
wishing to bring out the most complete
editions of his works. Not only did these
spurious poems affect the poet's reputation
as a poet, but by careful examination of
their text, biographers had gathered a lot
of so-called "facts" about his life and char-
acter (or rather. Inferences) that sorely In-
jured the poet as a m.an.
To go over these In detail would defeat
the very purpose of leaving them out In
this account of the poet's life. But there
Is one story you will find referred to or
told in full In all the older accounts of
Chaucer. This refers to a supposed inci-
dent in his political career. We have been
242
His Editors
assured that Chaucer was involved in a
civil commotion or political quarrel due to
his favoring the election of Sir John
Northampton. This candidate's defeat
for the mayoralty of London in 1384 was
followed by persecution of his supporters,
the friends of John of Gaunt, and Chau-
cer was said to have fled to the continent.
Returning, he was imprisoned, and re-
leased only when he consented to betray
his friends.
All this story was based mainly on facts
concocted from statements made in a
long dialogue called "The Testament of
Love,'* and was greatly elaborated in
Godwin's life of Chaucer — Godwin being
the father-in-law of Shelley, and his book
appearing in 1803 — a book so full of fan-
ciful details that even the author's wife
spoke of this defect, as Charles Lamb
records.
But the story of the imprisonment was
based on so flimsy a foundation that the
243
In the Days of Chaucer
critics have utterly demolished the whole
structure. Sir Nicholas Harris proved
that Chaucer during his supposed exile
was really in London, drawing his pensions
in person; also that the poet was a mem-
ber of Parliament when the story required
him to be a prisoner in the Tower of Lon-
don or elsewhere. "The Testament of
Love" itself was attacked, and shown by
two others, Collier in England and Hertz-
berg in Germany, to contain nearly con-
clusive proof that it was not Chaucer's,
being different in style, language, and
method; and also referring to its writer in
the first person, Chaucer in the third;
while it praised Chaucer, in terms that
modest poet could never have used, for
certain arguments the poet had taken from
Boethius. So did the doughty critics rend
this part of what Professor Lounsbury
calls "the Chaucer legend" — that amazing
web of fanciful falsehood time and igno-
rance have woven around him.
244
His Editors
Other false or doubtful statements fre-
quently met with are assertions that he
was educated at Oxford (or Cambridge) ;
that he declared he was born in London;
that he read law in the Middle Temple
and beat a friar in Fleet Street (a story
that was greatly expanded by Chatterton) ;
that he owned a house at Woodstock, or
composed poems under some certain oak-
tree, called "Chaucer's Oak." All these
stories rest upon insufficient foundation.
There may be some suggestions of truth in
them, but if there is we cannot disentangle
it from the falsity.
It will be seen, therefore, that the care-
ful study of the text of his works is a
matter of the greatest importance. Had
the spurious "Testament of Love" re-
mained among Chaucer's works, it would
have made us fear the poet had proved
himself a traitor and a turncoat — to say
nothing of the injury done his reputation
by a very stupid, long-winded companion
245
In the Days of Chaucer
to those other boresome works — the "Me-
libeus" and the 'Tarson's Tale."
There are still included under Chaucer's
name a number of pieces that may one day
be excluded, for the study of both his life
and his works is being busily carried on in
England, Germany, and America, by schol-
ars who are by their own labors making
themselves and their successors more ca-
pable of judging between the false and
the true. There are still masses of public
records and private papers that may in-
crease the knowledge of the doings of the
men among whom Chaucer lived ; and it is
one of the pleasures of making his acquaint-
ance that we may prepare ourselves to
share the satisfaction coming from sifting
truth out of hampering falsities.
We should all be glad to know the exact
date of the poet's birth, his marriage, the
death of his wife ; whether Thomas Chau-
cer was his son, whether his wife was
really Philippa Roet, what became of his
246
His Editors
little son Lewis; the right dates for all of
his poems; whether he met Petrarch In
Italy; where he gained his education,
where he was Imprisoned In France, why
he left his "Canterbury Tales" unfinished,
which part of the ''Romance of the Rose"
is his own — and solutions to an endless
number of minor puzzles that arise in
reading the poems.
Yet, If one will compare the biographies
of a century or more ago with so complete
a story of the poet's life as Is given in, for
example, the "Dictionary of National Bi-
ography," we shall be encouraged to be-
lieve that progress toward the light will
continue, and be confident that errors will
be one by one detected.
247
CHAPTER XV
THE TESTIMONY OF THE POETS
Nathaniel Hawthorne, in speaking
of the Poets' Corner of Westminster
Abbey, declares that the spirit of a poet is
the only one that "survives for his fellow-
mortals after his bones are in the dust.
What other fame," he asks, "Is worth as-
piring for? Or, let me speak It more
boldly, what other long-enduring fame
can exist? We neither remember nor care
anything for the past, except as the poet
has made it Intelligibly noble and sublime
to our comprehension. The shades of the
mighty have no substance; they flit inef-
fectually about the darkened stage, where
they performed their momentary parts,
save when the poet has thrown his own
creative soul Into them, and imparted a
more vivid life than ever they were able to
248
Poets' Testimony
manifest to mankind while they dwelt in
the body. And therefore, though he cun-
ningly disguises himself in their armor,
their robes of state or kingly purple — it is
not the statesman, the warrior or the mon-
arch that survives, but the despised poet,
whom they may have fed with their
crumbs, and to whom they owe all that
they now are or have — a name!'*
Then passing on to the royal tombs In
the Abbey, he declares that the helmet and
war-saddle of Henry V are memorable
more for Shakespeare's sake than for the
victor's own.
Hawthorne is led by the crowded state
of the Poets' Corner into a reflection that
"all the literary people who really make
an essential part of one's inner life might
have ample elbow-room to sit down and
quaff their draughts of Castaly round
Chaucer's broad, horizontal tombstone."
Whether the author of "The Scarlet
Letter" would place Chaucer himself at
249
In the Days of Chaucer
the banquet of Immortals he does not say;
but his claim to rank with the greatest is
hardly doubtful after it has been recog-
nized by so many generations. We have
spoken already of his contemporaries and
their reverence for him, of Lydgate, who
seldom wrote a long piece without tributes
to the "chief poet of Britain"; of Occleve,
who left us his portrait; of Gower, vrho
recorded the wide-spread popularity of his
work; of Froissart, who gave the flattery
of imitation; of the Scottish bards, his de-
voted students and followers. But to these,
having no room to quote, we must add
merely the names of Ascham, the tutor of
Queen Elizabeth; of Camden, the learned
antiquary, both of whom called Chaucer
the "English Homer"; and Eustace Des-
champs, the French author, who spoke of
that "grand translateur Geffroy Chaucier,"
and then pass abruptly on to men better
known to us — to Sir Philip Sidney and
Edmund Spenser, the Elizabethan poets.
250
Poets' Testimony
About 1579, a young collegian, who had
been an actor, but had left the stage for the
pulpit, Issued a pamphlet attacking "Poets,
Pipers, Players, Jesters, and such like Cat-
erpillars of a Commonwealth." This little
satire was dedicated to Sir Philip Sidney,
and two years afterward Sidney wrote his
"Apology for Poetry," which was not Is-
sued until 1595.
This work of Sidney's is really a defence
of fiction In the widest sense, and Is justly
considered one of the notable books of our
literature. Incidentally he gives us his Idea
of Chaucer In these words :
"Chaucer, undoubtedly, did excellently
In his Troylus and Cressid; of whom truly
I know not whether to marvel more either
that he In that misty time could see so
clearly or that we In this clear age walk
so stumblingly after him. Yet had he
great wants, fitte to be forgiven In so rev-
erent antiquity."
There Is not much enthusiasm here ; but
251
In the Days of Chaucer
that is characteristic of Sidney's style, and
somewhat due to his great respect for the
classic authors. He always speaks com-
posedly, and within bounds. Spenser is less
restrained. He, in his "Shepherd's Calen-
dar," does not scruple to give Chaucer the
highest place in the often quoted passage
where, celebrating Chaucer under the name
"Tityrus" and meaning poets by "shep-
herds," he says:
** The god of shepherds, Tityrus, is dead.
Who taught me, homely as I can, to make*;
He while he lived was the sovereign head
Of shepherds all that been with love y-take;
Well could he wail his woes, and lightly slake
The flames which love within his heart had bred.
And tell us merry tales to keep us wake
The while our sheep about us safely fed.
Now dead he is, and lieth wrapt in lead;
(Oh, why should Death on him such outrage show!)
And all his passing skill with him is fled.
The fame whereof doth daily greater grow.
* Write poetry.
Poets' Testimony
But if on me some little drops would flow
Of that the spring was in his learned head,
I soon would learn these woods to wail my woe,
And teach the trees their trickling tears to shed."
There are also references to Chaucer in
others of Spenser's poems, as in the first
stanza of "Colin Clout's Come Home
Again," and in the "Faery Queene," where
he begs pardon of Chaucer for attempting
to complete the "Squire's Tale," in the
second canto of Book IV. It is in this pas-
sage that we find the famous lines :
*« Dan Chaucer, well of English undefiled,
On Fame's eternal bead-roll worthy to be filed."
"Dan," by the way, is derived from
"domnus," mediaeval for "dominus," and
is the same word which the Spanish have
retained in their title "Don," as "Don
Quixote."
Spenser shows Chaucer's influence in so
many places that there is not space to note
them. His "Mother Hubberd's Tale" is
^S3
In the Days of Chaucer
written in direct imitation of his master's
style, and copies even the tricks of phras-
ing. Indeed, we may regard Spenser as
Chaucer's disciple and imitator, though he
is in some qualities ranked higher.
Shakespeare also shows traces of Chau-
cer's influence, but in slight degree. His
"Troilus and Cressida" has reminiscences
of the earlier poem; his "Midsummer-
Night's Dream" owes something to Chau-
cer's "Knight's Tale"; and "The Two
Noble Kinsmen," which once had Shake-
speare's name attached to it, is based upon
the same story of "Palamon and Arcite" ;
but the great dramatist does not mention
Chaucer by name, unless in the prologue
to the last-named play — now not attributed
to Shakespeare's sole authorship.
Pepys, in his famous diary, speaks of
considering the purchase of a "Chaucer,"
and afterward tells of having his copy
bound. Later references indicate that
Pepys became an admirer of the poet, and
254
Poets' Testimony
Professor Lounsbury tells us that it was at
the instance of Pepys that Dryden wrote
his version of the character of ihe Parson,
imitating the passage in the prologue to
the "Canterbury Tales." The poet Dray-
ton describes Chaucer as
'* First of those that ever brake
Into the Muses' treasure, and first spake
In weighty numbers."
Dryden, while he confesses that Chau-
cer's "verse is not harmonious to us," yet
imitated and modernized certain of his
poems, in a way that seemed to make them
more agreeable to his own time, though
later critics have ridiculed the revisions
once admired. Dryden wrote, "I seriously
protest that no man ever had or can
have a greater veneration for Chaucer
than myself," but whether this venera-
tion has led him to full appreciation of
the poems is questioned by good critics,
and must be decided by the best taste of
In the Days of Chaucer
readers who study both. At all events, a
study of the Tales modernized by Dryden
will be of the greatest help to the student
in appreciating Chaucer's pecuHar quali-
ties, and may be recommended to teachers
of literature as an improving exercise for
students.
From Milton there is little to quote. "II
Penseroso" has the lines:
*< Or call up him that left half- told
The story of Cambuscan bold.
Of Camball, and of Algarsife,
And who had Canace to wife.
That owned the virtuous ring and glass.
And of the wondrous horse of brass
On which the Tartar King did ride."
But these do little more than indicate that
Chaucer was read by the Puritan poet. In
the Latin poem, "Mansus," there is a line
referring to Chaucer as Tityrus again:
** Quin et in has quondam pervenit Tityrus oras,"
but it shows only that Chaucer once wan-
dered along the banks of the "silver
256
Poets* Testimony
Thames"; and except for a few mentions
In his argumentative tracts, we have no
other trace of Chaucer In Milton's works.
So exhaustively has Professor Louns-
bury examined Into the traces of "Chaucer
In Literary History," In his essays of that
name, that It would be absurd for us not to
avail ourselves of his learning. Here can
be given only the briefest suggestion of
the facts he gives In fulness, and those
who desire to go farther may consult his
"Studies in Chaucer."
In the eighteenth century It became a
fashion to imitate some of Chaucer's com-
positions, and this Is traced to Dryden's es-
say In praise of the poet. Among the best-
known Imitators were Pope, Prior, and
Gay, but little can be said In praise of any
of the attempts, since, like most Imitators,
they found It easier to copy unimportant
details than to reproduce the spirit or
grace of the original. To bring the poet
within the comprehension of readers of
257
In the Days of Chaucer
the time was a professed purpose of these
versions, for it was thought that his lan-
guage was so difficult as to be unintelligible
except to scholars who had made it a spe-
cial study. Hence we have Pope regard-
ing Chaucer as obsolete, and forecasting
the time when others as modern as Dryden
would share the same fate, as we see in
these lines from his "Essay on Criticism":
** Now length of fame (our second life) is lost.
And bare three-score is all even that can boast.
Our sons their fathers' failing language see.
And such as Chaucer is, shall Dryden be."
It was a universal opinion that the lan-
guage would vary until that of each time
would become hardly readable to poster-
ity; and so many wished to adopt some
way of fixing the language — some stand-
ard of authority or usage. The same wish
may now and then be heard from the hps
of men to-day, though one would think
that the five hundred years that have left
258
Poets' Testimony
Chaucer still readable might reassure them.
We can hardly sum up better the at-
tempts of various writers to replace Chau-
,cer by something else than in Professor
Lounsbury's words: "By Dry den the gold
of Chaucer had been turned into silver.
The laborious alchemy of the eighteenth
century went still farther and turned it into
lead."
Though the nineteenth century ap-
proached Chaucer with a wish to explain
rather than to modify, the attempt pro-
duced three more failures, those by Thur-
low, Wordsworth, and Leigh Hunt, none
of which is worth reading so long as the
originals are obtainable. There was a
project set on foot in 1841 to recast a great
part of Chaucer's works by the co-operation
of a number of literary lights, of whom
Mrs. Browning (Miss Barrett, then) was
one. Walter Savage Landor refused to as-
sist, and in a letter declared "Chaucer was
worth a dozen Spensers"; adding, "Par-
259
In the Days of Chaucer
don me, if I say I would rather see Chau-
cer quite alone in the dew of the morning,
than with twenty clever gentlefolks about
him, arranging his shoestrings and button-
ing his doublet."
But the first volume — full of errors and
absurdities — appeared, and was received
in such a manner as to cause any thought
of a second to be abandoned. For there
were many who had studied Chaucer until
they could understand what he lost in these
attempts to make him over.
As knowledge increased by the labor of
scholars, it was discovered that Chaucer
had not been understood, had not been cor-
rectly read, had not been appreciated. A
new school of poetry, the school that cared
less for conventions, and looked more to
nature than to classic models, found Chau-
cer anew. Southey said: "Chaucer stands
in the first rank with Spenser, Shakespeare,
and Milton; and in variety of power
Shakespeare is his only peer." Coleridge,
260
Poets' Testimony
Scott, Campbell, likewise praised him In
terms Indicating either their own admira-
tion or the estimation in which he was held
by scholars of their time. Mary Russell
MItford wrote: "Two or three of his
'Canterbury Tales' and some select pas-
sages from his other productions are worth
all the age of Queen Anne, our Augustan
age, as It has been called, ever produced."
Fortunately, readers of Chaucer are now
so many that there is little need to quote
authorities to establish his right place In
our literature. The mystery and strange-
ness that once hung about his poems has
been cleared away. He is read even by
schoolboys and girls; he can be read, with
little difficulty, by any who have learned
his charm, and collections of his works in
cheap and excellent editions can be found
everywhere. If we quote a few more ex-
tracts in his praise. It is done to encourage
readers by showing what they have to gain
by learning to know Chaucer thoroughly.
261
In the Days of Chaucer
Tennyson, In his "Dream of Fair
Women," begins by acknowledging his
Indebtedness to Chaucer in these stanzas:
*^ I read, before my eyelids dropped their shade,
' The Legend of Good Women y long ago
Sung by the morning star of song, who made
His music heard below.
Dan Chaucer, the first warbler, whose sweet breath
Preluded those melodious bursts that fill
The spacious times of great Elizabeth
With sounds that echo still.'*
Then, from Lowell: "Chaucer seems
to me to have been one of the most orig-
inal of poets, as much so in respect of the
world about us as Dante in respect of that
which is within us. There had been noth-
ing like him before, there has been nothing
since. . . . He sets before us the
world as it honestly appeared to Geoffrey
Chaucer, and not a world as it seemed
proper to certain people that it ought to
appear." "If character may be divined
from works, he was a good man, genial,
262
Poets' Testimony
sincere, hearty, temperate of mind. . . .
We love him more even than we admire."
From Longfellow:
'* He is the poet of the dawn, who wrote
The Canterbury Tales, and his old age
Made beautiful with song; and as I read
I hear the crowing of the cock, I hear the note
Of lark and linnet, and from every page
Rise odors of ploughed field or flowery mead.*'
From Scott's "Rokeby:"
** Oh, for that pencil, erst profuse
Of chivalry's emblazoned hues.
That traced of old, in Woodstock bower,
The pageant of the Leaf and Flower,
And bodied forth the tourney high
Held for the hand of Emily,
Then might I paint the tumult broad
That to the crowded abbey flowed."
Mrs. Browning, in her "Book of the
Poets," from which has already been
taken a quotation about the "Canterbury
Tales," thus speaks of their author: "He
is a king, and inherits the earth, and ex-
161,
In the Days of Chaucer
pands his great soul smilingly to embrace
his great heritage. Nothing is too high
for him to touch with a thought, nothing
too low to dower with an affection. . . .
not one of the Queen Anne's men meas-
uring out tuneful breath upon their fingers
did know the art of versification as the old
rude Chaucer knew it." And she then ex-
plains that the word "rude" is used for
the "picturesqueness of the epithet."
From William Hazlitt we might quote
many passages; but one will show his gen-
eral estimate: "The four greatest names
in English poetry are almost the first four
we come to — Chaucer, Spenser, Shake-
speare, Milton. There are no others that
can really be put into competition with
these. . . . Chaucer excels as the poet
of manners or real life; Spenser as the poet
of romance; Shakespeare as the poet of
nature (in the largest use of the term) ;
and Milton as the poet of morality."
"Chaucer was himself a noble, manly
264
Poets' Testimony
character, standing before his age and
striving to advance It; a pleasant humor-
ist, withal, who has not only handed down
to us the living manners of his time, but
. . . would make as hearty a companion
as Mine Host of the Tabard."
Stedman, in a brief summary, says : *'At
the outset of English poetry, Chaucer's
Imagination is sane, clear-sighted, whole-
some, with open-air feeling and truth to
life," and in a recent poem, "Ye Tombe of
ye Poet Chaucer," named from a placard
he saw on the monument, Stedman depicts
the quiet rest of the great poet during the
ages, and ends with these stanzas:
'* And now, when hawthorn is in flower.
And throstles sing as once sang he.
In this last age on pilgrimage
Like mine, from lands that distant be.
Come youths and maidens, summer free,
Where shades of bards and warriors dwell.
And say, * The sire of minstrelsy
Here slumbers well.'
265
In the Days of Chaucer
And say, < While London's Abbey stands.
No less shall England's strength endure!'
Ay, though its old wall crumbling fall
Shall last her song's sweet overture;
Some purling stream shall flow, be sure.
From out the ivied heap, to tell
That here the fount of English pure
Long slumbered well."
266
CHAPTER XVI
THE DWELLERS IN ARCADY
As we consider this land of poetry into
which we have entered to make acquaint-
ance with Geoffrey Chaucer, shall we not
look about us to some of its more distant
regions? For the men of his time Chaucer
dwelt in old London on the Thames, ended
his life there and lies buried somewhere in
the shadow of the Abbey.
But for us he is one of the immortal cit-
izens of that Arcadia the gateways to
which are ever open at our wish, and he is
one of those who have made it a land of
perpetual delights. We may, if we choose,
pass from our converse with him and his
self-created company to those whom Chau-
cer found already in that enchanted realm
when he entered there.
267
In the Days of Chaucer
We may draw near to the group that
ever Hngers around bhnd Homer and hear
his songs of the days that were twenty cen-
turies in the past long before Chaucer's
boyish fingers were taught to shape the
alphabet, and may see again the exploits
of those heroes whose swords will never
cease to flash in the flames of the Trojan
citadel, or may wander with wise old
Ulysses over land and sea, observing the
manners and men of his little world, and
then may rejoice with him when he stands
at last with his back to his own portal and
sends those avenging arrows among the
thronged suitors.
Unless we are scholarly enough to be
attracted to the obscure grove in which
Heslod Is telling of old myths, and giving
good advice to husbandmen, we shall be
next drawn to where Virgil is echoing in
his own polished words the accents of Ho-
mer, and shall here renew our friendship
with him who exiled by fate came to La-
268
In Arcady
tium and reared the city on the Seven Hills,
losing by the way that poor Creiisa, and
shall visit in his company the rising walls
of Rome's future rival and victim, and
mourn over poor Dido's funeral pyre, as
the ships of her faithless lover sink below
the horizon.
Leaving Virgil with the sweetness of his
verse still In our memory, we shall not
have far to go before finding ourselves in
the company of the solemn Florentine to
whom the Roman poet was alike teacher,
guide and magician. And with Dante, we
shall hardly remain in contact with the
earth, but shall pass in visionary flight
from the deepest depths of the Inferno to
the higher circle of the seventh heaven.
But the vision shall be more than real-
ity, and the divine Beatrice, the gracious
Virgil, and the serene Dante shall come
nearer to the soul than do the living men
about us in our daily life. Dazed with the
marvel of it all, wondering even when we
16^
In the Days of Chaucer
but half understand, there is yet a mystery
of unrest besetting us, and we have a sense
of relief upon reaching firm earth again.
After the sojourn with the celestial com-
panions of Dante, there is a touch of hu-
manity even in the high-strung sonnets of
Petrarch, and Laura is more approachable
than the spiritual Beatrice in her saintly
robes; indeed, except for the moments
with the romantic Petrarch, we could hard-
ly go on to the merry company that sits in
a ring upon the lawn of an Italian villa lis-
tening to the perfect prose and easy verse
of shrewd, delightful Boccaccio, as he re-
tells with new graces the stories of a ruder
time.
Not far away now is our starting point,
where, within hearing of the Latins and
Italians, and yet distinctly apart from
them, we see Chaucer reading his musical
lines, grave and gay by turns, to the richly
dressed knights and ladies of King Ed-
ward's court. There is at times close re-
270
In Arcady
semblance In his tone and manner to his
Italian friends; and yet by a transition so
sudden that we wonder afterward that
there Is no abruptness In the change, we
hear a different note, and are conscious of
listening to a voice that Is English above
all, so English that every drop of blood In
our veins tingles with a response that, de-
spite our awe, Dante never awakened; and
we feel the vibration of chords Petjrarch
left untouched. We know Chaucer to be
akin to us, and ourselves to be his children.
We have now first heard the English ac-
cent, and shall know the twang of It upon
the tongue of every bard hereafter. In
whatever key they may choose to sing.
Here Is another group, not far away,
listening to the fairy tales of Edmund
Spenser, tales made the more unreal and
believable because of his affectation of an
antique accent — an accent that never was
on sea or land, but seems fitted to the re-
gions of enchantment he has conjured up
271
In the Days of Chaucer
for us. We have passed many a singer and
teller of tales, but we must pause for a
moment at least with the courteous and
learned Sidney, since he is a friend none
would willingly lose, and his brave words
in defence of poesy have won our grati-
tude and our allegiance. So we rest awhile
in his haunt of shepherds and shepherd-
esses, though we know that these person-
ages are not real, like those whom Chaucer
has created for us. These of Sidney's are
but dainty masqueraders, and their lan-
guage is to our ears as unreal as them-
selves.
We find ourselves now in a crowded
part of Arcadia. We can hardly give
more than a happy glance of recognition
to the many noble figures that are moving
about us — to Chapman, who has caught
something of Homer's bearing ; to Raleigh,
whose brief words are so delightful we
grudge him to the outer world and wish
him all Arcadian; to Kit Marlowe, a
272
In Arcady
sturdy, independent figure, who at times
has the tone and port of the greatest Ar-
cadian of all; to Herrick, who seems to
walk a little apart in a cosy happiness all
his own; to Beaumont and Fletcher, arm-
in-arm ; to Ben Jonson, who wins a respect
awarded to few of his companions.
But In an open space where none dare
come within his radius Is the Prince of the
whole kingdom. No need has he of dig-
nified bearing, of distance, of claim to def-
erence. He Is upon his own territory wher-
ever his steps take him, and he wanders at
will, consorting with high or low, the sol-
emn or the gay, and yet reigns without
self-consciousness the monarch of them all
save Father Homer, the Divine Dante,
and old iEschylus. And yet, though he
speaks with the very tongue of inspiration
upon every topic under the sun — the man
remains unknown. He is the epitome of
the drama, and speaks every man's
thoughts but his own. One can approach
273
In the Days of Chaucer
nearer even to Dante, Homer, to ^^schy-
lus himself, than to this sprite, Shake-
speare. He will jest with you, weep with
you, pray with you, but he will not be
intimate with any, nor tell his inmost
thoughts save in puzzles none may read.
Reading all men through and through, he
remains impenetrable, wearing ever either
the tragic or the comic mask. Striding in
cothurnus or capering in buskin, he will
have no partner by his side.
We do not know all Dante thinks, but
we know his cast of mind. With Shake-
speare we can no more predict than with
his own Will-o'-the-Wisp. Over bog, over
mire he leads us, and then vanishes, leav-
ing us to flounder out. Yet such is the
fascination of the man that we are ever
ready at his call, and once near him fall
under his spell until he chooses to set us
free. Of only one thing are we sure. He
is English — as English as Chaucer, and as
much akin to us.
274
In Arcady
Where shall we turn from this magician
of the stage? We shall least feel his
loss as he passes on, if we do reverence to
the Puritan Poet — the mighty Milton, in
whose sublimity and sweet serenity we shall
rest after the mocking moods of his great
forerunner.
It is as if after a day when nature has in
her most capricious mood displayed all her
power of storm and tempest, of gorgeous
skies and soothing calm, we had passed
into the calmness and peace of serene, un-
troubled sunlight. With less of force and
beauty there is still the sense of sublimity.
So in Milton we find a charm that even
Shakespeare cannot give, a simple gran-
deur learned of the Hebrew prophets, for
they, too, though more remote, are here,
and have taught the secret of power to
many later comers in the universal land of
poesy.
Amid the Innumerable hosts about us
wherever we turn our eyes, are those with
275
In the Days of Chaucer
whom we should love to pause; and, once
under their spell, it is hard to turn away.
Were we French, we should by no means
be drawn from broad-browed, twinkling-
eyed Moliere, but should believe him fit
companion for any. Were we German,
we should long since have been under the
spell of Dr. Faustus, or ranging free wher-
ever the wandering Goethe might choose
to lead us. Spanish, we should hear for
the hundredth time the woful comicalities
of Don Quixote or rejoice in the homely
wisdom of his squire Sancho. But these
for another day. Now we will remember
that we are of the English tongue, and
shall make acquaintance only with our
blood-kin.
Even for that, the time is too brief. In-
spired by the words of their elder brothers,
how many are speaking the true language
of Arcadia! Here is big John Dryden,
and here is little Alexander Pope, amazing
us so with their assured skill that we won-
276
In Arcady
der whether we are right in wishing they
were a little less self-conscious and had
more of the simplicity Chaucer taught us
to admire. Here is Wordsworth, one mo-
ment inspired, the next beating time to
mere prose. Here are Cowper, Gray,
Keats, Shelley, ready to repay richly the
time we give them, and each with a voice
all his own. Here is Lord Byron, so care-
less of his great power, turning into poetry
all he may say, yet offending as often as he
pleases; and here we may hearken to" the
weird story of the Ancient Mariner or the
music of Christabel until the voice of Cole-
ridge dies away in mystical words of which
none knows the meaning. There is relief
in coming from these abstractions to the
wholesome presence of the sturdy Sir Wal-
ter Scott. While with him we shall not re-
gret for a moment that we are not else-
where, but shall roam in the romantic hills
of Scotland, breathing the fresh outdoor
air or shall by the magic of his wand see
277
In the Days of Chaucer
again the pageantry of past ages come to
life. Is it history? It is something truer
than any history, it is great poetry, and
truer than truth.
But it is not verse, and when Scott
ceases to sing his ballads that stir us as
Chevy Chase stirred Sidney, we must leave
him among the prose-poets, with Bunyan,
Defoe, Swift, with Fielding, Dickens,
Thackeray, whom our age has persuaded
to make stories rather than verses — and
turn to the Peasant Poet of his own land
though we retrace our steps that we may
hear of the Cotter's Saturday Night, Tam
O'Shanter's thrilling escape from the
clutching hand of the witch, or the merry
makings of All Hallowe'en.
We are too near our own day. The
poets begin to assume to us a reality that
has about it too much of earth to savor
wholly of Arcadia. Not yet can we see
Poe, the Brownings, Tennyson, Longfel-
low, Lowell, apart from the personality
278
In Arcady
that embodied their spirits in the world of
every day, and so not yet can they be to
us true Arcadians, though in each there is
that voice of the immortal land which as-
sures us they will abide forever with the
dwellers therein.
In our own new world, in America,
there has been at least sufficient assurance
that the heritage of poesy has not been
withheld from us. As we have given our
homage to the royal line of poets, and
have been glad to acknowledge ourselves
loyal subjects of this race of kings and
prophets, we hope one day to find in their
company some of our own countrymen
who may be not unworthy to dwell with
the poets and masters of the same mother-
tongue.
But, as we have seen, the torch of poetic
utterance passes from hand to hand down
the ages, and the greatest torch-bearers do
not disdain to receive one from another the
/ight of learning, and sedulously to cherish
279
In the Days of Chaucer
the flame until It can be passed on for the
enlightenment of later times.
From Homer to Virgil, Virgil to Dante,
Dante to Petrarch, Petrarch to Chaucer
came the light of other days ; and from the
hands of Chaucer, Spenser, Shakespeare,
Milton comes the glowing brightness that
makes our homes beautiful, and warms the
hearts of all who speak the English tongue.
While it may not lie in our power to
add a ray to the brightness, we all may
cherish the names and the memory of these
benefactors of the race — the creators of
that land where we may at will enter and
hold converse with the greatest men of all
times.
To none of these do we of the English-
speaking races owe more than to the poet
of our dawn — to Geoffrey Chaucer.
THE END
280
APPENDIX
CHIEF DATES IN CHAUCER'S LIFE
DATE
CHAUCER
OTHER EVENTS
WRITINGS
1340-6
Birth of Chaucer.
Battles of Neville's
Cross and Crecy.
Siege of Calais.
1348
Death of Robert Chaucer
(grandfather).
The Black Death.
1350
Founding of Order of
the Garter.
1352
Marriage of Lionel to
Elizabeth de Burgh.
I354--5
War with France and
with Scots.
1356
Battle of Poitiers.
1357
Chaucer a page to Eliza-
beth de Burgh.
1358
The French "Jac-
1359
Chaucer a soldier.
querie."
Invasion of France.
" Romaunt of
1360
Captured and ransomed.
the Rose,"
1361
Chaucer enters the king's
" Chaucer's
household.
A. B. C."
1362
Langland's "Piers
(both before
Plowman."
1369)-
Death of EUzabeth de
•
Burgh.
English used in legal
pleadings.
J364
Building of Windsor
Castle.
1365
" Period of French In-
fluence."
Birth of Richard II.
1366
Esquire to the king.
Marriage to PhiUppa.
PhiHppa pensioned.
Death of his father.
1367
Life pension granted.
Founding of the
Kremlin, Moscow.
Remarriage of his mother.
Black Prince's cam-
paign in Spain.
2«I
Appendix
DATE
CHAUCER
OTHER EVENTS
WRITINGS
1369
Chaucer in second French
Death of Blanche and
" Book of the
expedition.
of Queen Philippa.
WycHffe.
Birth of John Huss.
Duchess."
"Complaint
1370
Diplomatic journeys.
imto Pity."
137I
The Charter House
built.
1372-3
Chaucer in Italy.
Winchester School
Part of
founded.
" Clerk's Tale"
1374
Period of " Italian Influ-
and "Palamon
ence."
and Arcite."
Comptroller of Customs.
Tournament at Smith-
Leased Aldgate house.
field.
'•' Complaint to
Grant of wine.
his Lady."
1375-6
Becomes guardian to one
Slaplegate.
French pro\'inces lost.
On secret service abroad.
Death of Black Prince.
"The Bruce " by
Barbour.
1377
Missions to Flanders and
to France.
Death of Edward in.
1378
Missions to France and
Accession Richard II.
" Boethius "
Lombardy.
translated.
»379
"Troilus and
Criseyde."
" Complaint of
Mars."
1380
More serious writing be-
Birth of Thomas i
gins.
Kempis.
Chaumpaigne affair.
Foreign monks ex-
pelled.
Wat Tyler's rebellion.
1381
His son Lewis bom.
"Boethius"
finished.
1382
Comptroller " Petty Cus-
Wvcliffe Bible fin-
"ParUamentof
toms."
ished.
Marriage Richard II.
Fowls."
1384
Death of Wycliffe.
"House of
Fame."
1385
Gave up Aldgate house.
Allowed a deputy to assist
Richard II burns
" Legend of
him.
Edinburgh.
Good Women."
1386
Lived at Greenwich.
Knight of Shire for Kent,
and sits in Parliament.
Battle of Sempach.
Testifies in Scrope and
Begins the
Grosvenor trial.
•'Canterbury
Loses his offices.
Tales."
X387
Death of his wife.
Richard II returns to
" Canterbury
London.
Tales."
X388
Pledges pensions.
Insurrection against
Richard.
(Nuns' Tale
The Barons seize
and Man of
Tower of London.
Law's Tale
Period of " Mature Pow-
Battle of "Chevy
existed before
er."
Chase."
in some form ;
Birth of Henry V.
also part of
1389
Clerk of works at Win-
Richard II regains
Knight's Tale,
chester.
power.
probably. )
282
Appendix
DATE
CHAUCER
OTHER EVENTS
WRITINGS
1390
Repairing banks of
Thames. Twice robbed.
Made forester.
Tournament.
1391
Loses positions as clerk.
'* Treatise on
Astrolabe."
»393
" Envoy to
Scogan."
X394
Pension granted.
Death of Queen
Anne.
1396
Richard II marries
" Envoy to
Isabel.
Bukton."
1398
Sole forester.
Sued for debt.
Richard abdicates.
Grant of wine.
Shakespeare's " Rich-
ard 11 " begins its
action here.
»399
Leases a house at West-
Henry IV on throne.
" Complaint to
minster.
his Purse."
Receives new pensions.
1400
Death of Chaucer.
Death of Richard II.
Birth of John Guten-
berg.
Persecution of Wyc-
140 1
Death of Froissart.
liffites.
283
Appendix
ENGLISH LITERATURE
From the Norman Conquest to Beginning of
Printing in England.
IO66-I2OO.
The Saxon Chronicle, by the Monks of Peter-
borough.
Fragments — such as "Canute's Song," by
Thomas of Ely; the "Prophecy of Here,"
the "Hymn of St. Godric."
1200-1300.
Layamon's "Brut" — The Ormulum Chron-
icles in verse — Legend of St. Catherine —
Homily of St. Edmund — Address of the
Soul to the Body — The "Owle and the
Nightingale," Ballad on the Battle of Lewes
— English Romances; "Havelok," "King
Horn," "King Alexander," "Richard I,"
"Guy of WarAvick," Life of St. Brandon —
Martyrdom of a Becket.
1300-1400.
Chronicles, Robert of Gloucester, Robert of
Brunne; Popular Ballads, "Robin Hood,"
"Willy Grice " "Summer is i-cumen in "
— Poems of Lav/rence Minot — Barbour's
"Bruce" — Langland's "Vision de Piers
Plowman" — Gower — Froissart's Chronicles
— Chaucer — WickiifFe.
Italian Authors: Dante, 1265-1321; Pe-
trarch, 1304-1374; Boccaccio, 1313--1375.
284
Appendix
A BRIEF BIBLIOGRAPHY
The Globe Chaucer. Macmillan & Co.,
1903. Complete, with life, introductions,
notes, glossary.
The Student's Chaucer, Oxford Press, 1897.
Complete, with life, an introduction, glossary.
Either of these is cheap and good, the first
being more recent and having more helps to
the reader. If a more expensive edition is
wanted, buy Skeat's or Morris's six-volume
editions.
The Canterbury Tales, 2 vols. Edited by
Pollard.
The Prologue, Knight's Tale, and Nuns'
Priest's Tale, in the Riverside Literature
Series, for young readers, in one volume,
bound in linen, 40 cents.
The Prologue to the Canterbury Tales,
The Knightes Tale, The Nonnes Prestes
Tale. Edited in Critical Text, with Gram-
matical Introduction (being an Elementary
Grammar of Middle English), Notes and
Glossary, by Mark H. Liddell. Macmillan
&Co.
Selections from Chaucer's Canterbury
Tales. Edited, with Introduction, Notes
and Glossary, by Hiram Corson, Professor in
Cornell University. Macmillan & Co.
285
Appendioo
The Minor Poems, edited by Skeat, Oxford
Press.
Riverside Chaucer, 3 vols., edited by Pro-
fessors Child, Lowell and Norton. Hough-
ton, Mifflin & Co.
BOOKS ABOUT CHAUCER
Studies in Chaucer, Professor Thomas R.
Lounsbury. 3 vols. Harper & Bros. A
complete and exhaustive critical study of the
life and the v^ritings, v^ith citation of refer-
ences. Very full and good on all doubtful
questions, and written in most readable style.
My Study Windows. Lowell. Containing
a charming essay on Chaucer. Houghton,
Mifflin & Co.
Chaucer's England Matthew Browne 2
^ vols. A study of the times of the poet. Illus-
trated with a few old cuts. A good picture
of the England of Edward HL Hurst and
Blackett (1869).
^Medieval England. Bateson. G. P. Put-
nam's Sons (1904).
Dictionary of National Biography, ''Chau-
cer." Macmillan & Co.
Chaucer Primer. Pollard.
Life, in English Men of Letters Series, by Ward.
Social England. Traill. (Vol. U.)
[jSreen's History of the English People.
22>6
Appendix
Castle Life in the Middle Ages. Blashfield.
Scribner's Magazine, Vol. V. See also "The
Man at Arms," Vol. III.
History of the Church of England. Wake-
man. Rivingtons (1899).
English Literature. Taine.
Amenities of Literature. Disraeli.
Phra, the Phenician. Arnold. Contains
a vivid picture of life under Edward IIL
The Riches of Chaucer. Charles Cowden
Clarke. An expurgated selection of the
poems, with a life of Chaucer full of statements
now discredited.
Cabinet Pictures of English Life, ''Chau-
cer," Saunders, 1845. I have not examined
this book, but find it mentioned.
Library of Literary Criticism, ** Chaucer" —
Moulton Publishing Co.
Publications of The Chaucer Society. Be-
sides these may be mentioned Ten Brink's
scholarly studies on Chaucer (Henry Holt
& Co.), Tyrwhitt's edition of the works,
with notes and glossary (Appleton), the
Bohn edition, and a cheap edition published
by T. Y. Crowell, in one volume.
The student who will buy the "Globe Chau-
cer" will have enough to begin with, and by add-
ing to this Professor Lounsbury's "Studies in
Chaucer," he will be able to make a thorough
study of the poet and his works.
287
Appendix
ROUTE OF THE CANTERBURY
PILGRIMS
Few points can be certainly fixed, but the
following route includes the points mentioned
by Chaucer.
From the Tabard Inn (some call it Talbot
Inn) in High Street, Southwark, of which until
1875 there were traces, they rode out southeast-
erly, and upon reaching the "Watering of St
Thomas'' (mentioned in line 826 of the Prologue
to the Tales) the Host drew up and proposed
that the telling of tales should begin. Possibly
this was the old site of St. Thomas's Hospital,
where now stands the Southeastern Railway.
No place is named thereafter until they are
in sight of Deptford ("Depeford") and Green-
wich, as mentioned in the Prologue to the Reeve's
Tale. (Distance, 5 miles.) It was half-past
seven in the morning ("half-way prime").
Thence, passing either near Woolwich and
Plumstead, or by way of Greenwich Park, over
Black Heath, Shooter's Hill, and Wellen to
Grayford, they came to Dartford (16 miles),
where many pilgrims were accustomed to stay
over night; but Chaucer's party may have rid-
den on by Gravesend, where is Falstaff's Gad's
Hill, and Dickens's home, then possibly by
Pett Street, Chalk Street, Petticoat Lane, Hig-
ham and Stroud, they reach the town of Roch-
ester (30 miles), the next place mentioned.
The Prologue to the Monk's Tale, line 31 16
288
Appendix
says. *'Lo, Rochester stands here fast-by.'*
Rochester was another usual place for break-
ing the journey; but these pilgrims may have
gone on, by Shilowham, Marestreet and Key-
street, to halt at Sitting-bourne (41 miles),
which the antiquary Camden notes as "a place
well stored with inns." The Prologue to the
Wife's Tale mentions "Sidingborne" as yet
some distance ahead.
By Radfield and Green Street the road next
reaches Faversham, and then we come to the
next town named by Chaucer, Boughton-under-
Blean ("Boughton under Blee") (50 miles).
Here the Canon and his Yeoman overtook them,
as is told in the opening lines of the Canon
Yeoman's Prologue (line 556). After the Yeo-
man's story, the Manciple's Prologue refers to
*'a little town which that y-cleped is Bob-up-
and-Down, under the Blee in Canterbury way."
This has not been identified. The ''Globe Chau-
cer" suggests Harbledown, or "Up and Down"
(" Camden's Britannia " gives " Underdown "),
a field in Thannington parish, as the place
meant; and says '' the Blee " is Blean forest.
The road hence to Canterbury might pass
through Marbledown, St. Dunstan's Street, and
Westgate to the Cathedral and the shrine — that
bejewelled structure from which Henry VHI.
carried such enormous treasure.
Between Rochester and Canterbury pilgrims
sometimes halted at Ospringe, where traces of
an old ''Pilgrim House" still exist, as mentioned
in the "Globe Chaucer" (1903).
Appendix
The reader is again cautioned that, except for
the places Chaucer names, the route is uncertain,
for five centuries make great changes. Yet the
ancient WatUng Street ran from London to
Canterbury on its way to Dover, and was no
doubt built with all the permanence of the
Roman military roads, and as directly; so the
route was likely to follow its general line at least.
The whole journey was about fifty-six miles,
and it is thought Chaucer meant his party to be
four days in the pilgrimage, though this was not
rapid travelling.
DOUBTFUL OR SPURIOUS POEMS
The following poems long attributed to
Chaucer are now considered to be by other
authors:
Merciless Beauty. — Doubtful.
Orison to the Holy Virgin. — Doubtful.
The Former Age — Doubtful.
Testament and Complaint of Cressida.
A Goodly Ballade of Chaucer.
The Flower of Courtesy, with a ballade.
La Belle Dame Sans Mercy.
The Assembly of Ladies.
The Complaint of the Black Knight (or, of a
Lover's Life).
A Praise of Woman.
The Testament of Love.
The Lamentation of Mary Magdalen.
The Remedy of Love.
290
Appendioo
The Letter of Cupid.
A Ballade in Commendation of Our Lady.
The Cuckoo and the Nightingale.
*'Go forth, king, rule thee by Sapience." (No
title.)
" Consider well every circumstance." (No title.)
Eight Goodly Questions with their Answers.
To the King's Most Noble Grace.
*'When faith faileth in priestes' saws." (No
title.)
"It faileth for a gentleman." (No title.)
** It Cometh by kind of gentle blood." (No title.)
The Plowman's Tale.
Balade de Bon Consail.
A Proverb against Covetise and Negligence.
Against Women Unconstant.
In Dispraise of Women for their Doubleness.
The Craft of Lovers.
"Of their nature they greatly then delight."
The Ten Commandments of Love.
The Nine Ladies Worthy.
"Alone walking." (No title.)
"In the Season of Feverere." (First line.)
"O merciful and O merciable." (First line.)
"Son of Priamus, gentle Paris of Troy." (First
line.)
"I have a lady whereso she be." (First line.)
"O mossy Quince, hanging by your stalk."
(First line.)
"Look well about, ye that Lovers be." (First
line.)
"In Womanhead as authors all write." (First
Hne.)
2QI
Appendix
The Court of Love.
Chaucer's Dream.
The Flower and the Leaf.
Jacke Upland.
The Tale of Gamelin.
The Merry Adventures of the Pardoner and
Tapster.
The Merchant's Second Tale.
"The world so wild, the air so remunable."
*'The more I go the farther I am behind."
Prosperity.
Leaulte Vault Richesse.
An Amorous Complaint made at Windsor.
Some critics, also doubt whether the Romance
of the Rose is the translation made by Chaucer.
Skeat admits only the first part. For a dis-
cussion of the whole subject see Lounsbury's
*' Studies," and a note in the preface to the
^' Globe Chaucer."
29^2
INDEX
"A. B. C," Chaucer's, 159
a Becket shrine, 177
"Adam Scrivener, To," 238
^schylus, 274
Aldgate residence, 91, 135
amusements, 8, 19, 20, 21, 22
Anne of Bohemia, 166
animals, size of, 3
"Apologie for Poetrie," Sidney, 25
"Arabian Nights," 176, 188
Arcady, the Poets in. Chap. XVI
archery, 63 -^
Arcite, as page, 42, 43
Arthur, King, legends of, 50
Ball, John, the "mad priest," 113, 132
Barbour, John, Scotch poet, 112
Barklay, 227
Beaumont and Fletcher, 273
Bible, Chaucer's knowledge of, 146
Bible, Wyclifife's, 108
"Big Ferre," French peasant, 57
Birth of Chaucer, 10, 11, 13
"Black Death," 30
blackletter editions of Chaucer, 235
Black Prince, 34, 49
Blanche, the Duchess, 94
Boccaccio, 50, 143, 144, 168, 176, 183, 270
Decameron, 176
Boethius, 141, 167
"Consolations of Philosophy," 166
"Book of the Duchess," 94, 106, 160-163
books Chaucer read, 49
Borrou, Robert de, 61
^^93
Index
Bretigny, Peace of, 59
Browne, Matthew, "Chaucer's England," 179, 180,
207
Browning, Mrs., 212, 259, 263
Brownings, the, 278
Brune, Robert de, 50
"Brut d'Angleterre," 50
Bunyan, John, 159
Burgh, de, Elizabeth, 2>Z, 35
Burke, on chivalry, 125
Bury, Richard de, 48
Byron, 277
Campbell, 261
"Canterbury Tales," 175, 202
Bailly, Harvey, "Mine Host," lOi, 102, 180, 182,
193, 197, 205
Canon Yeoman' e Tale, 200
Caxton's edition. 233, 234
Chaucer described, loi, 190
chivalry in, 124
Clerk's Tale, 199
Cook's Tale, 186, 201
Doctor of Physic's Tale, 107, 196
Friar's Tale, 198
"Host, Mine," loi, 102, 180, 182, 193, 197, 205
Knight, the, 182
Knight's Tale, 42, 43, 182
manuscripts, 241
Man of Law's Tale, 163, 187
Melibeus, Tale of, 192
Merchant's Tale, 199, 200
Monk's Tale, 163, 194
Nuns' Priest's Tale, 195
parson described, 203
Parson's Tale, 200
Pardoner's Tale, 197
Pilgrims, the, 177, 207, 213
Prioress's Tale, 190
reality of the Tales, 202
Reeve's Tale, 186
Rhyme of Sir Thomas, 190
Second Nun's Tale, 199, 200
Shipman's Tale, 189
Squire's Tale, 199
Story of Gamelin, 201
294
Index
"Canterbury Tales," Summoner's Tale, 199
Tyrwhitt edition, 235
Wife of Bath's Tale, 198
caste, 7, 40, 114, 179
castle, life in feudal, 44
Caxton, first English printer, 232
Cervantes, 276
Chapel, St. George, Windsor, 89
Chatterton, 245
Chaucer, Geoffrey,
birth, ID, II, 13; name, 15; education, 17; home,
26; poet of the court, 31; a page, 33; earliest
records, 34; duties, 3(S-5o; reading aloud, 48;
earnings, 51; to France, 54; captured, 55; ran-
somed, 59; army life, 65; return to England, 66;
valet, 68; marriage, 69; coat-of-arms, 70; cus-
toms-officer, 72; salary, 72; business life, 75;
abroad, 76; pension, yy; income, 78; commis-
sioneir, 78; comptroller, 90; at Aldgate, 91; mar-
ried life, 94-98; his appearance, 99, loi, 190;
love of reading, 103 ; indifference to events,
108-110; on clergy, 118, 120; on chivalry, 127;
clerkships, 127; forester, 127; arranges lists, 128,
134; robbed, 129; Chaumpagne affair, 129; bus-
iness life, 131; as reformer, 133; to Greenwich,
135; a city man, 137; his documents missing,
138; sources of poems, 141; Italian influence,
142; his reading, 146; his services to literature,
149; breadth, 151; character as poet, 152, 153;
humor, 154; attitude to times, 155; changes in
style, 156; works described, 157, etc.; "Canter-
bury Tales," 175; death, 214; monument, 214;
portraits, 223; influence on Scotch, 224; on lan-
guage, 224; merit of his work, 225; times of
least and most reputation, 226-229; opinions
on. Chap. XV
Chaucer in Arcady, 270
Chaucer, John (the father), 13, 14, 25, 26
Lewis (son), 105
Philippa (wife), 69, 94, 98
Robert (grandfather), 15
Thomas (son), 69, 70, 106, 128
"Chaucer's England" (Browne), 17, 179, 180, 207
Chaucer Society, 236
Chaumpagne affair, 129
Child, Prof., of Harvard, 22,6
295
Index
chimneys, 5, 45
chivalry, 41, 48, no, 121, 123, 125
four ideals of, 126
chronology of poems and life, see Appendix
church, 7, no, 114, 115
classes, see "caste"
clergy, Chaucer on the, 189
clock at Westminster, 89
coal, 5
Coleridge, 261, 277
commissioner, Chaucer as^ 78
Compiegne, 34
"Complaint of Mars," 165
Compton, Agnes (Chaucer's mother), 27
Hamo de (Chaucer's grandfather), 27
"Confessio Amantis," Gower's, 219
"Consolations of Philosophy," Boethius, 166
costume, 3, 4, 47, 62,, 82
' Cowper, 277
Crecy, 62,, 64
"Dan" as title, 253
Dante, 143, 262, 269
de Burgh, Elizabeth, ^z, 35
"Defense of Poesie," Sidney, 251
dinner customs, 41, 85
"Disraeli, Isaac, quoted, 221
Dowgate Hill, 14
dress, see costume
drinks, 39
-^^ryden, 2^9, 255, 276
education, Chaucer's, 17, 32, 245
Edward III, 12, 48, 106, 149
Elizabeth de Burgh ("of Ulster"), 33, 35
England in Chaucer's time, 2
"Envoy to Bukton," 198
events possibly witnessed by Chaucer, 67
"Faerie Queene," Spenser, 126
false statements about Chaucer, 244
farming. 83
feudal customs, 51, 60
households, 36, 2>7' 44
foreign journeys by Chaucer, yy, 79
296
Index
France, Chaucer in, 53, 75
Edward III invades, 53, 76
state of, 53
France, King of; John, 34, 52
Freeman on chivalry, 125
French influence on Chaucer, 156
French naval exploits, 131
literature, 61
friars, the, 119
Froissart, 56, 78, 84, 134, 240
games, 8, 19, 20, 2^
Gaunt, John of, yy
Gay, 257
geography, mediaeval, 149
Gesenius, 236
"gestes" parodied, 191
Gibbon quoted, 167
Godwin (editor), 243
Goethe, 276
Gower, 113, 215, 217, 218, 220
Gray, 277
Green, John Richard, quoted, z^j 132, 135, 226
Hall of Westminster, 89
Harris, Sir Nicholas, 244
Harrison, Frederic, 88
Hawes, 227
hawking, 45, 56
Hawthorne, Nathaniel, on poet's fame, 248
Hazlitt, William, 264
Hebrew prophets, 268
Hesiod, 268
Heywood, 227
"History of English People," see "Green"
"History of the War of Troy," 50
Henry VH. 69
Hoccleve, see "Occleve"
holidays, 24, 74
Homer, 268
"Host, Mine," see "Canterbury Tales"
"House of Fame," 98, 104, 169, 170
houses, material of, 8
"Hugh of Lincoln," 190
Hunt, Leigh, 259
hunting, 56
297
Index
ideals of chivalry, 126
Italian influence on Chaucer, 142
"Jack Straw," 132
"Jacquerie," 53
John, King of France, 124
Jonson, Ben, 273
jugglers, 22, 74
Keats, 277
knighthood, 47, 62
see "chivalry" and "Round Table"
Knights of the Garter, 89
Knight's Tale, 42, 43, 182
laborers levied like soldiers, 90
Lamb, Charles, 104
Landor quoted, 259
landscape, appreciation of, 83
Langland, William, 2^, 112, 140, 218
language, changes, 4
Chaucer's influence, 224
Chaucer's, "obsolete," 258
Layamon's "Brut," 50
"Legend of Good Women," 170
"Legend, The Chaucer," 243, 244
"Lenvoy to Bukton," 97
libraries, 33
"Life of St. Cecilia," 164
Lionel, Duke of Clarence, 33, 35, 54, 68, 84, 106
literary English, Chaucer's, 223, 224
literature of France, 61
literature, table of, see Appendix
Lollards, 108, 116, 132
London, antiquity of, 88
Bridge, 13, 14
buildings, 28
population, 16
shops, 28
streets, 5, 23
Tower of, 88, 91
Longfellow, 177, 203, 263, 278
Lounsbury, "Studies in Chaucer," quoted, 77, 96.
129, 144, 159, 221, 230, 234, 244, 255, 257, 259
louvre, 44
298
Index
Lowell as poet, 278
Lowell quoted, 113, 141, 142, 143, 174, 200, 207, 224,
240, 262
Lydgate, 145, 216, 217, 221, 222
Mandeville, Sir John, 49
"Mansus" (Milton's poem), 256
manuscripts, Chaucer, 241
Map, Walter (or ]Mapes), 61
mark, value of English, 27
^larlowe, 27
metre, Chaucer's, 239, 263
Milton, 228, 256, 275
Minot. Lawrence, iii
minstrels, 44. 74. 81, 122
Mitford, Mary Russell, 261
modern poets, 278
Moliere, 276
monasteries, 118, 119
monks, 117
musicians, 44, 74, 81, 122
news, how carried, 6
Occleve (Hoccleve), 99, 100, 215, 217, 222
occupations of ladies in feudal castles, 47
page. Chaucer as a, 36-39
"Parliament of Fowls," 165, 166
pastimes, see "sports"
"Patient Griselda," 199
Pepys. 255
Petrarch. 7^, 84. 270
Philpot defeats pirates, 131
"Piers Plowman," 2>^, 112, 140, 218
plague, 94. 107
see "Black Death"
Poe, E. K., on metre, 239, 278
poetry in America, 279
"Poet's Corner," 215
poet's fame, 248
poets-laureate, 107
poets who win aflfection, 153
Poictiers. battle, 34. 63
Pope, Alexander, 229, 257, 2y6
299
Index
priests, 117
see "church"
Prior, Matthew, 257
prose, Chaucer's, 192
prose-poets, 278
Pynson (editor), 234
Queen Philippa, 106
questions unsettled, 246
quintain, 21
races blended in England, 9
rain, phenomenal, 30
reading aloud, 48
reading, Chaucer's love of, 103
Rethel, where Chaucer was captured, 57
Retiers, see Rethel
Rheims, siege of, 55
ribaldry, 201
Richard II, 134, 166
roads, condition of, 29
Rochester, 193
Roet, Catherine, 69
Paon, 68
Philippa, Chaucer's Avife, see Chaucer
Rolle, Robert, 50
"Romance of the Rose," 50, 124, 157, 158
Rossetti, 168
Round Table, Knights of, 50
route of Canterbury Pilgrims, see Appendix
St. Omer, William and Elizabeth, 49
school-life, 17, 18
science, Chaucer and, 147
Scotch poets, followers of Chaucer, 224
Scott, Sir Walter, 112, 168, 218, 261, 263, 277
"Seys and Alcyone," 163
Shakespeare, 65, 71, 107 ; "Richard II," 136 ; 148, 164,
171, 206; compared with Chaucer, 225, 254, 260,
274
Shelley, 277
shows and spectacles, 22
Sidney, Sir Philip, 228, 250, 272, 278; "Apologie," 25
skating, 20
Skelton, 227
"solar," 20
300
Index
"Song of Roland," 50
Southey. 260
Southwark, 181, and see Route of Pilgrims, Appen-
dix
Spanish naval exploits, 131
Spenser, Edmund, 228, 250, 252, 253, 271; "Faerie
Queene," 126
sports, 8, 19, 20, and see "hawking," "hunting,"
"skating," "wrestling," "games"
spurious poems, 173, and see list in Appendix
Stedman, Edmund C, 175, 265
streets, 5, 23
Strutt ("English Sports and Pastimes"), 135, and
under his topics
"Studies in Chaucer," quoted, see Lounsbury
Sunday amusements, 25
Tabard (or Talbot) Inn, 178, 181, and Appendix
Taine quoted, no, 216
"Tales of a Wayside Inn," 177; see Longfellow
tales, ribald, 184, 201
tapestries, 216
Ten Brink, 156, 164
Tennyson, 206, 262
"Testament of Love" (spurious), 87, 244
Thurlow, 259
Thynne (editor), 234
tilting, 21
tombstone of Chaucer, 136
Tottel, 227
Tower of London, 88, 91
travel, method of, 80
tributes to Chaucer, 250
"Troilus and Criseyde," 124, 168, 238
Tyrwhitt (editor), 235
Urry (editor), 235
Virgil, 269
"Vision of Piers Plowman," 140
see Langland
Wace, Robert, 50
Wakeman quoted, 120
Ward quoted, 168, 227
Wat Tyler Rebellion, 107. 113, 132
301
■^
Index
Westminster Abbey, 88, 214
Hall, 89
"Wife of Bath," 198, 211
Windsor Castle, 50, 89
wine granted to Chaucer,, 77
winter in the country, 137'
wool-growing, 90
Worde, Wynkyn de, 233
Wordsworth, 259, 277
wrestling, prize for, 191
WycHflfe, 108, 116, 132
"Ye Tombe of Ye Poet Chaucer," Stedman's,
quoted, 265
For Chronology, Literature Chart, List of spuri-
our poems, and Route of the Pilgrims, see Appen-
dix pages
302
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